


The Law of Flame and Wing

by Scarlet_Gryphon



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Challenge Response, M/M, Multi, NaNoWriMo 2017, Not Beta Read, Rough Trade Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-07 21:49:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 49,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12850203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Gryphon/pseuds/Scarlet_Gryphon
Summary: Woe betide those who fall under a phoenix's wrathful Judgement, for they will be pursued until the ends of time, falling under the ages-old law of flame and wing. (Or, how a drunken summoning in university turns out to be both the best and worst decision technomage M. Rodney McKay has ever made.)





	1. Part the First

**Author's Note:**

> Written for NaNoWriMo 2017. Due to differences between word counters, it's not showing up correctly, but I did verify it properly. You're welcome to look [here](https://nanowrimo.org/participants/pretzel/novels/the-law-of-flame-and-wing) if you like to check yourselves.

_Thump._ Pause.  _Thump-thump._ Pause.  _Thump-thump-thump._

Rodney woke with a groan, his head aching horribly. His mouth was dry and tasted like something had died in it overnight. His memories of the previous night were highly blurry and perilously close to a blacked-out wash. He'd been celebrating the success of his final project for his senior year Mechanical Magics course with some of his classmates. That had been a bitch of a class to deal with, especially given how hard it was to successfully marry the rapidly advancing realms of technology and magic together, even after all these years.

Rodney had staggered back to the tiny one-bedroom apartment he rented near the university after the bar closed, glad that it was within walking distance. It certainly made things easier. He wasn't usually one for heavy drinking, but he had been more than willing to make an exception that one time. The drinking and associated hangover, however, did not account for what sounded like someone repeatedly tossing a ball or something similar against the wall.

He forced himself to crack his eyes open and then sit up. Rodney had managed to get as far as his living room before he'd collapsed onto the soft carpet there and had passed out cold-- at least, that's what he remembered doing. He carefully got to his feet, hissing at the ache in what felt like his very bones.

“Oh, good, you're finally awake. Think you can let me out of here?”

Rodney froze at the sound of a voice nearby and then slowly turned, doing his best to summon some magic to his hand. It was a weak flicker in his palm as he was so out of sorts, but he hoped that it would serve to intimidate whoever had managed to break into his apartment. There, just over his kitchen table, was a man floating mid-air, looking for all the world as if he was laying on an invisible beach lounger, one leg crossed over the other at the knee. He held a tennis ball in one hand and had the other resting on his stomach.

For all appearances, the man looked perfectly normal, save for his eyes. The whites were instead a washed out cinnabar; his irises, the red-yellow-orange of embers; and his pupils, a dark carmine hue. It brought images of dying flames to Rodney's mind, unsettling though they were. Underneath him on the table was what looked like a half-assed ritual circle made of random objects from around the apartment, including most of Rodney's flatware, half of his spice cabinet (both sprinkled on the table and in their open-topped containers), and some coins of mixed American and Canadian currencies.

The man sat up, rearranging himself so he was sitting cross-legged, and then gave Rodney an expectant look. “Well?”

“You-- How-- Who the hell are _you_?” Rodney spluttered. The other man sighed.

“My name doesn't translate ready to the human tongue, but I can try,” he said, and then thought for a moment. “You can call me Avan.”

“What does that make you, then, if not human?” Rodney asked.

“A phoenix, naturally.” Avan tossed his ball up in the air and then let it vanish mid-flight.

Rodney stared at him. “You're a _phoenix_?”

“You're a _human_?” Avan retorted. “Yes, I'm a phoenix. Maybe this would be a better conversation had when you're not nursing a hangover and a headache?”

Rodney huffed and then headed into the kitchen. He snagged a vial of pain potion and another of a hangover remedy from a cabinet, downing both in quick succession. His headache eased blessedly quickly, and, after getting a large glass of water, Rodney returned to the living room and took a seat on the lone squashy armchair there.

“So, a phoenix. What does that mean for me?”

Avan rested his forearms on his thighs, leaning forward a little. “A long time ago, it would mean that a great evil was going to be unleashed upon the world, and that the Law of Flame and Wing was needed to keep that evil from causing the ruin of the world and death of magic. Phoenixes are-- or were --the judges, jurors, and executioners for all those who would seek those outcomes.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, which was bound back in a messy braid that reached past his shoulders. “There used to be a lot of us at one point, but over the centuries, something has been picking us off one by one. Someone or something has summoned phoenixes and then destroyed them. The last phoenix--”

His expression tightened in a brief expression of such deep pain and grief that Rodney couldn't help but to reach out in involuntary comfort before he stopped himself. Avan shook his head, his expression clearing back to a somewhat neutral state.

“The last phoenix that was taken disappeared seven hundred years ago,” he continued on. “Since then, I have worked to wipe the knowledge of how to summon phoenixes from the annals of history. As far as I know, I am the last of my kind. I haven't seen any others in all that time. I don't know if they're in hiding or all dead.”

Avan let out a harsh laugh. “The fact that I worked so hard to hide that information and you manage to summon me while piss-drunk and with items you found around your fucking _kitchen_ is astonishing.”

“Hey, well, I _am_ a genius,” Rodney said with a smug smirk. “You still haven't answered what all of this means for me, though. If I release you, do you go back to wherever you were before this?”

“No. I'm bound to you until I'm able to mete out Judgment. The only problem is, I have no idea on who or what that'll be, nor when, so it looks like you've just got yourself a new roommate until then.”

“I don't know if you've noticed or not, but there's not exactly two bedrooms in here, unless you plan on living on my couch for God knows how long,” Rodney pointed out. Avan hummed and then looked around before pointing at a door in the wall.

“Do you use that closet for anything?” he asked. Rodney's eyebrows rose at that.

“Uh, no? Why?”

“A little bit of dimensional magic and it'll be perfect,” Avan said. He leaned back, one of his hands planted firmly on thin air behind him. “Of course, I'll need to be released from the circle first. I can't just stay hovering over your kitchen table indefinitely.”

“Huh? Oh, right.” Rodney got up and dispelled the ritual circle, murmuring the traditional phrases to make sure it was done safely. He might have more of an interest in technomancy than other magical fields, but he wasn't about to mess with the laws of magic. Bad things happened to those who did that, and he had no interest in dying horribly until he'd received at least one Nobel, and not really even after. He'd rather die very old and doing something highly inappropriate, if he was to be honest with himself.

Avan got to his feet, and it was only then that Rodney noticed how tall he was. Having him standing over the table wasn't much help, but as he reached the floor, Rodney noticed the phoenix had at least a half foot on him, if not a little bit more. Avan headed over to the closet, examining the door and then opening it. Rodney had a few coats stored in there, but not much else.

“This'll work perfectly,” Avan told him. “The coats will have to go, but other than that, not much else will have to change.”

He took the coats out and laid them over a nearby chair before starting to cast quite a bit of magic at the interior of the closet. Rodney watched him work, getting the feeling that he had very little choice in the whole matter. While Avan worked, Rodney went to his bookshelf to fetch a few volumes from it. He needed to do some research on all of this. If he was going to be stuck with an unexpected roommate for who knows how long, he wanted to know what he might have to expect. He just hoped this wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass.

After a while, Avan finished magically modifying the closet and invited Rodney over to investigate it. Rodney left his research behind- which had been going slowly anyways, as he'd only been able to find the most general of information on phoenixes –and then went to go look, though he kept the book he'd been reading in his hand. The formerly tiny closet was now at least the size of Rodney's own bedroom, if not a little bigger, with a queen-sized bed tucked in one corner and a dresser in another. The walls had been turned a pale cream color and a fake window had been put in the wall across from the bed that echoed the weather of the real world outside.

“Nice,” Rodney said. Avan nodded in appreciation.

“Thank you. Find anything interesting?”

“Besides the fact that everyone apparently thinks phoenixes are just pretty magical birds that live in fire?” Rodney asked dryly. “Not really.” He shook his head. “It seems like your work over the centuries has been successful.”

“Good,” Avan said firmly. “The more misinformation, the better in this case.”

Rodney hummed and then looked around the room once more. “You know,” he said after a moment, “if you're going to be sticking around for a while, we should come up with a more... human name for you.”

“What's wrong with Avan?”

“It's not exactly subtle,” Rodney pointed out. He drummed his fingers against his book and then looked down at it, a surprised noise leaving him when he read the author's name. “How about... Kavanagh? It's close enough to your real name that you should be able to answer properly to it. As for first names... Peter? It's a common enough name that no one would question it.”

Avan shrugged, not really caring either way. “Sure, why not?”

“And about your eyes...”

Avan tensed. “What about them?”

“Maybe not so red?” Rodney suggested. “I mean, I guess you could pass it off as a side effect of a spell gone wrong, but a glamor might not go amiss either, especially a subtle one.”

Avan waved a hand and with the gesture, his eyes turned a dark gray-blue. “Better?”

“Much. Now, we'd best work on the rest of your cover story. How do you feel about getting a few degrees...”

-/-

“No, no, no, that completely violates MacArthur's Third Law of Magical Conservation!”

“Not if you add in the thaumic resonance of the rose quartz!”

“Rose quartz? _Rose quartz_? Why the hell would we use rose quartz when we have two amethysts and a moonstone in the array already?”

John glanced at his companion as they walked down the hall, listening to the loud argument coming out of the open door of a nearby laboratory.

“That usual, Major Lorne?” he asked.

“The arguing, sir?” Lorne said. “When it's Doctors McKay and Kavanagh? Yes, but it never comes to blows. It's a daily thing. Apparently they were roommates in college and have stuck together since. They're the odd sort of friends who show affection through near-constant arguing. It's usually only about their work; a few people have tried going after either of them on other things and the other immediately goes to their defense.”

“Married?”

Lorne let out a sharp laugh at that. “No, sir,” he replied as they reached the lab. “Both of them are pretty private about their personal lives, but that's one thing they're very clear on. There's no romantic connections between them at all; just a weird sort of friendship.”

“Huh.”

As they entered the lab, the argument stopped and the two doctors turned to look at them, with the taller of the pair tensing momentarily before relaxing; a third man was at a nearby table, watching the argument with an amused air. “Major Lorne. Can we help you and your... guest?”

“Just showing the Colonel around, Doc,” Lorne replied easily. “Doctors Kavanagh, Zelenka, and McKay, this is Colonel John Sheppard, our new head of military. Colonel Sheppard, these are Doctors Peter Kavanagh, Radek Zelenka, and Rodney McKay.” As he spoke, he gestured at each man in turn, making sure his new CO knew which mage was which.

“Pleasure,” Kavanagh said with a short nod. “Welcome to Atlantis, Colonel.”

“Hopefully he'll be better than Sumner was,” McKay muttered, which made Kavanagh sigh and then shake his head. McKay shot him a look before rolling his eyes. “Yes, yes, it's nice to meet you. Is there anything we can do for you two, or can we go back to what we were doing?”

“You mean arguing at high volume about thaumic resonance and a gemstone array?” John asked dryly. McKay let out a huff at that.

“Yes, well, it's important work,” he retorted. “I doubt you'd understand the complexities of the situation.”

John wandered over to the table McKay, Zelenka, and Kavanagh had been working at and examined the inert gemstone array that was laid out there. He hummed thoughtfully. “What are you trying to get it to do?”

“Channel magical energy more efficiently, but Kavanagh insists on using archaic methods that will cost us valuable time and money!” McKay replied, which then sparked round two of the argument between him and his fellow mage. John saw Lorne roll his eyes in faint yet fond exasperation. That seemed to be the running theme so far in regards to the relationships between the international contingent of mages and scientists in the city and the corresponding regiment of military personnel from the various countries that had signed the Atlantis Concord back in the late 1800s.

Most members of the military seemed to treat the civilian mages and scientists like slightly younger siblings who needed to have a careful eye kept on them but who were otherwise fully independent, and the civilians returned the favor by tolerating quite a lot save for outright stupidity, bigotry, and assholery that could get people killed. Just because Atlantis had been made by the Ancients didn't make the city safe; if anything, it made it even more dangerous.

The Ancients had been fond of leaving both magical and mechanical devices scattered about their cities-- of the original six, only two were left, with Atlantis having been moved to what was now known as Crater Lake in Oregon State around 350 BC and then rediscovered in the 1800s; and Lemuria, which was now anchored in international waters off the northern coast of Australia. The Lemuria Pact between Russia and China in the 1920s saw the city fall under the control of the two largest nations in Asia, as it had been anchored off the coast of Russia, but after the Second World War, it had been taken from them and declared as a sister research location to Atlantis.

While McKay and Kavanagh continued their argument, John reached out and absently rearranged the gemstones and crystals in the array to a more preferential setting to his eyes, taking out one of the amethysts and replacing it with a fire opal. It set in place with a pleasing click on the table, making John hum happily. His dragon side had always been fond of shiny things, but particularly shiny things associated with fire or air, which translated nicely to aircraft of all kinds and firearms.

The noise of the opal clicking into place drew the attention of the two mages, with McKay all but pushing John aside to look at the rearranged array. Kavanagh cast a series of diagnostic spells over it before turning to John.

“How did you do that? That array... it's amazing. It should do exactly what we need it to do. The fire opal balances everything out.”

“I'm half-dragon,” John said with a faint shrug, as if that would explain everything. It usually did. Full dragons were somewhat rare nowadays, but his mother had passed on the innate affinity for fire and air and the ability to shift to dragon form. It had also left him with near-elfin features, particularly his faintly pointed ears and perpetually messy hair that still had an odd amount of sex appeal no matter what he did with it; a faint line of near-transparent scales could be seen trailing down from his temples and back around his ears as well. John hardly minded the messy hair bit, as he'd never wanted for willing bed partners, but sometimes it made being taken professionally hard, so he had to continually work to make others see him at his best.

He wasn't the only creature or person with creature heritage at Atlantis, either. The city seemed to attract those who weren't fully human, which had quite a few people who had creature blood running through their veins. For example, Doctor Parrish, Major Lorne's husband, had dryad ancestry, which highly enhanced his career as a botanist. John had yet to meet the man, but he was sure it'd happen eventually.

“A half-dragon?” McKay repeated. He gave John a thoughtful look. “Can you shift to dragon form?”

“Yes. Why?”

“McKay, you can't use the Colonel as a test subject,” Zelenka interjected. “He does have other things he needs to do with his time.”

“But--”

“Maybe when I've got some free time?” John suggested. He checked his watch. “Which, unfortunately, isn't right now. It was nice meeting you two, but we've got an appointment with the City Council.”

“Good luck with that,” Kavanagh said dryly. “You'll need it.”

“Thanks, I think.” John turned to Lorne. “Shall we, Major?”

Lorne nodded and then led the way out after saying his own goodbyes, taking John to the Council chambers where the meeting was supposed to take place. It was supposed to be more or less just an introductory meeting, but it would be a good way for John to see how the Council interacted with one another.

Half an hour later and John was starting to seriously regret being so optimistic. The meet and greet portion of the meeting had gone well, but had quickly devolved into arguments and petty bickering after the minutes of the last meeting had been read out and the floor opened for new business. Most of the Council members seemed to greatly dislike one another at the very least, and the fact that a good two-thirds of them looked to be well over the age of sixty and had been at their posts for most of their lives didn't help much either. They were very set in their ways and didn't seem particularly connected with the day-to-day lives of the city's citizens, judging from how preoccupied they were with the minutiae of esoteric by-laws and making money first rather than anything useful, like promoting safety or using the inventions and innovations that were coming out of the research labs for first the betterment of the world and _then_ profit.

John glanced over at Lorne, who was behind him and to his right standing at ease, his face a perfect picture of bland neutrality. John let out a soft huff of laughter, wishing he had that skill. Maybe he could get the Major to teach him how to do that. He then looked over to his left, where the civilian leader, Doctor Elizabeth Weir, was sitting. She had kept rather quiet throughout the whole meeting, save for when they'd been introduced, which confused John. Surely she'd want to put her opinion in, particularly when it related to making her job and the lives of those she led easier.

He was about to interject when a low tone like a great bell being struck rang out, echoing in the chamber. John immediately got to his feet, one hand held ready and clear at his side so he could freely cast as needed.

“What is that?” he snapped out at Lorne, who had come to the ready as well.

“The perimeter alarm,” the Major replied. “It only goes off when someone or something with ill intent crosses the boundary wards on the lake shore.”

“Define ill intent.”

“Intent to kill or grievously harm,” Lorne said as they headed for the door, “We--”

“Wait! What about us?” one of the council members asked. “What if they get in the city?”

“Stay here until we find out what's going on,” John commanded as he and Lorne left the room. Weir hurried after them, dogging their footsteps all the way to the weapons chair that all Ancient cities had. It was able to be activated by those of creature blood, which was one of the reasons why John had been chosen to be the military leader for the city. John had trained a little in Lemuria's chair before he'd come to Atlantis, learning how the wards and defenses worked. Luckily, the Ancients had been ones for consistency across their cities, which meant Atlantis' defense systems were the same as Lemuria's.

No one quite knew exactly what had happened to the Ancients. There were records of a terrible plague at one point in their history, as well as mentions of a great enemy, both of which had led the Ancients to work on and eventually succeed in ascending to another plane of existence to escape. Historians had done their best to find out what, exactly, the great enemy had been, but the Ancients' databases had been depressingly bare of specifics.

John had barely gotten into the chair before Weir was demanding answers as to what was going on. For a supposed diplomat, she did not have a lot of patience for things being outside of her control. John ignored her, trusting Lorne to keep her held back while he assessed the situation. His consciousness melded with the near-sentient wards of the city, allowing him to see what was going on. The wards directed him to a spot on the rocky shore, near the dock where boats came and went from the city ferrying supplies and people.

There were three beings there, though it was hard to tell if they were purely humans or held creature blood in their veins. John turned off the internal alarms as he focused on the beings, who just seemed to be watching the city from afar. They were dressed in dark clothing and had long, bone-white hair peeking out from under the hoods of their long coats. John pinged the wards for any other intruders, but couldn't find any save for the ones near the docks.

Given that the whole of Crater Lake and the grounds for a mile around them were considered private government property and clearly marked at the borders as such, intruders were not welcomed. John frowned, trying to decide what to do with them. He could send a warning shot, or perhaps... Yes, that would work.

He sent out a small crystal orb that would act as a voice-only communications relay, directing the floating magical device towards the intruders. Once it got within hailing distance, John started speaking.

“This is private government property. You have five minutes to leave before consequences will be levied against you. That timer starts now.”

One of the intruders stepped forward and then lowered their hood. John was very, very glad he was nowhere actually nearby, because the wards showed him exactly what the other being looked like. Greenish-white skin that wouldn't look out of place on a days-old corpse covered an angular male face that was framed with the white hair John had seen before. An angled slit on the cheeks pointed towards the being's nose, and sharp white teeth were visible when the pale being opened his mouth to speak.

“We will leave once we get the _avem ignis_ that hides like a coward within your walls. We have tracked it across many years and miles. Its scent has led us here. We won't leave until the last of the Fire Guardians is ours. You have five minutes to comply, human.” The speaker smiled nastily, showing off his sharp teeth. “If you don't, the lives of all within the city will be forfeit. Our Queen does not take kindly to those who oppose her. _Your_ timer starts now.”

John didn't take kindly to threats either. Without waiting to get the okay from Weir, who was still demanding to know what was going on, he sent three glowing missiles from the city towards the invaders. He had the right after all; he'd warned them about the consequences of remaining where they shouldn't be, and it was his duty to protect all those within the city's walls.

The intruder on the right of the speaker quickly cast a shield over the three of them, his companions doing the same. One of the missiles hit the shield head-on, splashing against it in a glowing ball of light. John directed the other two to skirt around the intruders and hit them from behind. One of them hit its target and exploded, taking out the intruder on the left and sending up a cloud of dirt, rocks, and other debris. The final missile bounced off the heavy-duty shield the speaker threw up behind him, impacting the ground and causing heavy damage to the intruder on the speaker's right.

“Foolish human!” the speaker snarled as he placed a hand each on his companions' bodies. “You've just ensured your death and the deaths of all those in your city!”

With a swirl of oily-looking smoke, the three invaders were gone, leaving behind a pool of ichor-dark blood and a small crater to show where they were. Not trusting that they were actually gone, John set the wards just below a war footing for both the city and the boundary, making sure they would incapacitate any potential assailants or invaders and transport them to the nearest secure null-magic holding cell. He didn't want to actually kill someone right off with the wards, especially if it was someone who had merely gotten lost in the area, but he wasn't going to be kind and soft-hearted about it either.

John got up from the chair with a groan, having forgotten how draining being connected directly to the city was. He didn't mind the usual background hum that he got from the wards as one of creature blood and as the head of the military contingent, but the direct connection often pulled on more of his magical core than he would prefer. Lorne helped him to stand before moving a short distance away.

“Well?” Weir demanded sharply. “What was that all about? What happened?”

“I'd rather inform the whole Council at one time, ma'am,” John said, doing his best to hide a wince at Weir's insistent voice. “It'll make things far easier if I only say this once.”

Weir huffed at that and then stalked off, presumably heading back to the Council chambers. Lorne watched her go before turning to John.

“Are you alright, sir? Do you want to go to the infirmary to see Doctor Beckett?” he asked

John shook his head. “No. I'll go after. The weapons chair always saps my energy more than I'd like. I'll be fine with some food and rest.”

Lorne nodded, though he didn't seem entirely convinced, if the way he stuck close to John on the path back to the Council chambers was anything to go by. John didn't call him out on it, instead keeping quiet until they reached the chambers. He was surprised to see McKay and Zelenka there, and turned to Lorne for an explanation.

“McKay's the head of the Science and Magic departments, and Zelenka's his second,” Lorne quickly explained. “If anyone in the city can identify who or whatever those things were, it's them.”

“Hopefully, Major,” Zelenka said, idly adjusting his glasses. “While we do have a lot of resources at our disposal, we cannot promise miracles all the time, unfortunately.”

“But we can still try,” McKay said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Now, Colonel, what were the wards detecting?”

“Is this room connected to the projection system? It'd be a lot easier to just show you.”

“It should be.” McKay went over to one of the walls and tapped a series of runes on it. A clear crystal orb on a plinth rose out of the floor in the center of the room, eliciting surprised noises from some of the Council. John ignored them as he placed his hands on the orb and focused on what he wanted to show the others. Once the orb started to glow, John stepped back, tapping the top once as he did so.

The orb began to project a clear and crisp image over itself, replaying what had happened with the intruders. Once the confrontation was over and the image had snapped out of existence, the Council, which had been struck silent as they'd watched it, burst out into a flood of complaints and demands as to what was going to be done next, to find out who the intruders had been, and if they were actually going to be returning. John let them go for a while before letting out a sharp whistle to stop the panicked babble.

“Hey! We can't get anything done by arguing amongst ourselves. I've set the wards to just below war level, and I'm going to contact General O'Neill at Homeland to let him know. We aren't going to be alone in this, and I sure as hell am not going to let anyone be killed.”

“What about that Flame Guard thing?” one of the Council members said. “Why don't we find out what it is and then give it to them if they come back? That's all they wanted, after all.”

“What else did it call it? An _aven ignee_?”

“ _Avem ignis_ ,” Weir corrected. “It translates to 'fire bird'.”

John noticed that McKay suddenly went a nasty shade of pale at that pronouncement, which had him curious. What could McKay know that caused such a reaction? He kept an eye on the mage until the end of the meeting, hanging back a few beats before following quietly after McKay as he hurried out of the Council chambers. He used a bit of magic to mask his presence both magically and physically.

It was the work of a moment to slip inside the lab behind McKay and take up a spot against a nearby wall. Kavanagh was still at the table with the gem array, noting down some observations in a notebook as he monitored the diagnostic spells that hovered over it.

“Avan!”

John frowned as Kavanagh turned around on his stool, a surprised look on his face. An old nickname from their college days together, perhaps? He'd have to ask later.

“Rodney? What's wrong? What was with the perimeter alarm earlier? Lost hikers again?”

McKay shook his head. “No. It was... weird. There were three of them. Here, look.” He picked up one of the Ancient-style tablets from the table next to Kavanagh and fiddled with it until he was able to pull up the recording of the encounter on the lake shore. Kavanagh watched it twice through before setting the tablet down, his face going pale and drawn.

“ _Fuck._ ”

“I know!” McKay said with a flailing motion of his hands. “Do you recognize those assholes?”

Kavanagh paused, running a hand over his face. “Faintly. They...” He closed his eyes briefly as he tried to think. “They match the descriptions of the Wraith. I thought they were legends, to be honest, stories to be told around a campfire to scare children.”

“What are they?”

“A type of vampire, if I remember correctly, but not _sanguinus vampirus_ ,” Kavanagh said, letting his hand drop away from his face as he opened his eyes. “They're more like succubi and incubi in that they feed off life force, but they drain it from their victims rather than just living off the ambient emotions like most 'cubi. I've never encountered them myself.”

“The fact that they know about fire birds--” McKay began hesitantly. Kavanagh shook his head.

“I know, I know. I'll have to do more research. Maybe the database will know more.”

“Maybe, but Avan, think about it. They know there's only one left, and that it's here. If they've been hunting fire birds, then maybe that's where--”

“ _Don't_ ,” Kavanagh said sharply, cutting McKay off with an angry slash of his hand. “I don't-- Din was _killed_. The bond was broken, and that only happens with true death.”

“Sorry. It's just that--”

“I know. I'd rather Din be dead than in the the hands of the Wraith. It's much... kinder,” Kavanagh said, his tone softening with sadness. McKay nodded.

“Right. So, what should we do? The Council was pretty adamant about finding the Flame Guardian and handing it over to those assholes so we'd be left alone.”

“I don't know if there's anything we _can_ do,” Kavanagh said. “Let Sheppard and the military deal with them. They're the ones who know how to fight.”

“And you don't?” McKay retorted. “I thought you were supposed to be all 'judge, jury, and executioner'. That whole Law of Flame and Wing crap and all that.”

“That... I can't. Not any more. The fire is barely an ember at this point,” Kavanagh said bitterly, throwing his pen hard at the wall in his anger. “I can do spells, sure, but anything beyond that?” He scoffed. “No. I'm hardly who or what I used to be.”

“Is there any way to get that back?” McKay asked. “Any way at all?”

“Not unless you know how to raise the dead without bringing them back as a perversion of their former selves.”

McKay shook his head. “I'm not a necromancer. Then again, I wouldn't touch that sort of magic with a ten-foot pole. There's a reason why that magic has been banned in pretty much every country. Raising the dead never works well for anyone involved.”

“True.” Kavanagh glanced at the tablet. “What I want to know is how their tracking works. If it's taken them this long to do it, their methods must be pretty poor.”

“Or you did a better job than you thought. I'm pretty sure they weren't expecting to look for someone in human form,” McKay pointed out. Kavanagh let out a huff of dry laughter.

“Yes, well, it wasn't intentional. I was fine where I was until you decided to get drunk,” he retorted.

“You're never going to let that go, are you?” McKay asked with a roll of his eyes.

“Not at all,” Kavanagh said, smirking. “That was your own damn fault.”

“I suppose.” McKay frowned. “You do realize this means you won't be able to leave the city until this is all over, right?”

“Well, I don't really leave the city much anyways, so it's not really much of an issue,” Kavanagh pointed out. “As long as I stay behind the wards, I should be fine. The fact that they tracked me here, though...”

John had heard enough. He let his masking magic fade away and pushed forward from the wall. “They tracked you?” he asked, focusing on Kavanagh, who had turned around at the sound of his voice. “Why would they track you? Just what are you? Are you going to be a danger to the city?”

“No. If I was going to be a danger to anyone, I wouldn't have been allowed on the city in the first place,” Kavanagh replied. “The wards would've kept me out.”

“And what were you doing hiding there, Colonel?” McKay demanded. “You can't just go around listening in on private conversations!”

“Considering that it seems to be part of what's going on, I'd say that it was a pretty damn vital thing to do,” Sheppard snapped back. “Don't test me on this, McKay. Now, Kavanagh. Explain.”

Kavanagh went over to the door and closed it before locking it and activating the privacy wards. “There. Just in case. Now, Colonel, are you going to bow to the pressures of the Council and hand me over to those... assholes?”

“I'll do what's best for the city,” John said truthfully. “I can't promise that the Council will keep rational heads, though.”

Kavanagh sighed and then waved his hand near his eyes. When the glow of magic faded away, John had to stop himself from recoiling back. Red eyes were certainly... striking, to say the least. He paused for a moment and then crossed his arms loosely over his chest.

“And? Who and what are you, really?”

Kavanagh straightened his stance, lifting his chin a little as if he were bracing himself for John's disapproval. “My name is Avan. I am over five thousand years old, and I am a phoenix.”

Silence reigned for a long stretch of time. It was Rodney who broke it, his entire posture defensive.

“You can't give him to the Wraith or whoever the fuck those assholes are!” he snapped. “He hasn't done anything to anyone. Sure, he's a bit of a raging asshole at times, but he's not _evil_ or anything, and--”

“McKay! I'm not going to give him to the Wraith,” John said quickly. “Like you said, he hasn't done anything to anyone. You've known him since college, right? How did you two meet, anyways?”

“Oh, God,” McKay groaned as Kavanagh laughed. “Why did you ask that? He still mocks me for this.”

“McKay got drunk after a major exam in senior year of university and performed a summoning ritual using mostly things found in his apartment kitchen. Said summoning ritual hadn't been seen in a spell tome or textbook in over seven hundred years. He didn't even realize he'd done it because he'd passed out almost instantly after,” Kavanagh said. “That ritual bound me to him, so we were pretty much forced to become roommates after that.”

“You moved into my hall closet!” McKay said. “Sure, a few expansion charms were thrown at it, but it still confused the fuck out of people when they were over.”

“Yes, because you were such a raging party-goer during graduate school and your doctorate studies,” Kavanagh snarked.

“Fuck off,” McKay retorted, though as with much of their arguments, John noticed there was very little heat behind his words. “We still had people over on occasion, and they were still confused.”

John watched the two of them go back and forth, amusement quirking his lips upwards. Even in the face of the unknown, it was good to know that that the two of them were able to keep some sort of levity around them. Still, levity wouldn't solve everything, unfortunately. He cleared his throat after a minute or so, drawing their attention to him again.

“We need to make a plan in regards to the Wraith,” he said. “We'll have to keep this quiet for now, but researching them would be a great start. You mentioned the database?”

“Yes, but I don't know if they're in there,” Kavanagh said, idly running a hand over his hair. “Like I said, I thought they were legends, and this is coming from someone who is considered a legend himself.”

“Well, it won't hurt to look,” McKay said. “I'll write a search script to trawl the database and see if we can't find anything.”

“Good plan,” John agreed. “Let's get that going and then start planning. I need to call General O'Neill and let him know what's going on. You two stay here and don't say anything.”

“Got it. Good luck.”

“Thanks. I hope I don't need it,” John said. He said his goodbyes and then headed out of the lab, mind whirling. Phoenixes and Wraith. He shook his head, hardly believing what he'd heard and seen. God, this was one hell of a first day.

 


	2. Part the Second

Deep under the ground in the area known as the Black Hills in South Dakota, an extensively winding and warded Wraith Hive bustled with activity. Word that the last known Flame Guardian had finally been tracked down had come back from the scouting party, which had the whole Hive excited. The Queen had promised a great reward to the ones who brought back the wretched beast of flame and magic that had hidden from them all these centuries. The only problem was that it had sequestered itself in one of the remaining cities of the Ancients, cowering behind wards that wouldn't allow any Wraith to pass through them while they were active.

There had been little surprise at that. After all, the Flame Guardians had been the pets of the Ancients, summoned to mete so-called judgment out on those the Ancients considered threats. The fact that the Ancients had passed the ability to call down that judgment on to those they deemed worthy had been... problematic for the Wraith, especially after the Ancients had abandoned the humans they'd magically modified to have different traits that the Ancients had deemed useful. Any human with so called 'creature' heritage was a direct descendant of the thousands of people the Ancients had meddled with.

The Wraith had been victims of that meddling as well, with the Ancients playing with magics that had warped those who became the first Wraith beyond any resemblance of humanity. The Ancients had quickly realized their mistake and done their best to correct it, but a magical plague had swept through the land before they could finish their work. The Wraith had taken that time to rebuild their strength and mounted an assault on four of the Ancients' cities, destroying them and razing them to the ground, leaving little behind save for ruins.

The Ancients had deployed quite a few Flame Guardians after that, the flames of retribution burning away all but the most deeply buried Hives. Eventually, only the one Hive remained, leaving only a few hundred Wraith alive. It was Queen Coldamber that came up with the idea to summon the Flame Guardians and kill them off, using the humans that worshiped the Wraith to do the initial summoning and then, once they were bound and unable to leave, feeding from the fire birds over and over again.

It had taken some trial and error to figure out how to maximize the potential of the near-unlimited regenerations that the fire birds possessed, with the breakthrough coming about seven hundred years ago. Before then, most Flame Guardians had lasted maybe three regenerations at the most before their magical reserves were fully tapped and they died a final death. The Hive's mages had worked tirelessly to find a way to keep that from happening again, and when they had a working prototype, they'd had one of their worshipers perform the summoning ritual and then used the prototype on the fire bird that had answered the call, trapping it without escape.

Much to Queen Coldamber's delight, the prototype worked as desired, keeping the fire bird bound even after the worshiper that had called it had died, as well as providing enough magical energy from the natural ley lines that ran under and around the Hive to ensure that the fire bird wouldn't fade out after a few regenerations. Over time, the use of the fire bird was limited to the Queen and her most trusted lieutenants, leaving the rest of the Hive to fend for themselves. As the centuries passed, more and more Wraith died, even with the expansion of humanity into nearby areas. There just weren't enough humans that would be missed over the years, especially not with the advent of powerful communications systems and surveillance wards and cameras.

At the current time, there were just about a hundred Wraith in the Hive, half that amount of various worshipers and slaves, as well as a few Runners, though most of the latter had been set free to be hunted down later. They were heavily charmed to not be noticed by the local law enforcement or other concerned citizens, as well as a tracking device that was embedded in their backs near their spines, making it dangerous to operate on it themselves to remove it. The Runners provided entertainment and a good way for the foot soldiers to practice their tracking and shielding skills.

The Queen was waiting in her main audience chamber for the scouts to return, idly tapping her long nails against the arm of her ornate throne. They had reported that they had reached the city and tracked the fire bird's scent there, but nothing had come in after that. Surely it wasn't that hard to retrieve a measly fire bird? Coldamber had expected the humans to hand over the damned thing in return for their lives. Humans were predictably dumb and panicky herd animals when in large groups, and often their leaders, particularly if they had multiple ones in one place, would bow to the demands of their people in order to save their ranks and secondarily their lives.

Coldamber glanced over at the Runners nearby. They were housed in a cell for half of the day and then corralled in the throne room against one of the walls, a ward connected to the embedded trackers keeping the Runners in line. A small obscured corner of the ward was earmarked as a toilet, with a bucket enchanted to vanish any waste put in it. A disgusted sneer curled the Queen's lips. If humans weren't such a necessary food source, she'd rather do away with them all. They were foul and smelly creatures, and only very occasionally actually clever.

Her ruminations were broken when the scouts returned in a familiar swirl of oil-black magic, the three of them landing in the center of the throne room. Coldamber's attention diverted sharply to them, the Runners immediately forgotten when she saw what state the scouts were in. She quickly rose to her feet, her anger spiking when she saw that they didn't have the fire bird with them.

“What happened?” she snapped out. “Where is the _avem ignis_?”

“The humans attacked us!” the lead scout replied as what few medics they had rushed forward to see if anything could be done for the other two. “They didn't heed our warnings and sent magical missiles at us instead. I warned them that they would bring your wrath down upon them if they didn't comply.”

Coldamber hissed at that, her anger palpable as she strode forward. “You _fool_!” she snarled. “I sent you to do a simple task, and you failed me. All you were meant to do was to watch the humans and then negotiate with them, not threaten them. Did you speak my name?”

“No, my queen!” the lead scout replied, doing his best not to show fear in the face of his Queen's wrath. “I only told them that they would face your wrath if they didn't do as commanded.”

Coldamber brought her non-feeding hand up, capturing the scout's chin with her sharply nail-tipped fingers. “You _failed_ me. You have not done as you were commanded to do, so you will face the consequences.” She brought her feeding hand back and then slammed it into his chest with a snarl. He let out a scream as she drained him of his life force, leaving his corpses as a withered husk to land with a thump on the floor.

“Failure is _not_ an option!” Coldamber raged, whirling around to look at her lieutenants and other underlings who were watching from their positions near the far walls. “We _will_ have the last fire bird if it costs us half the Hive or more! Testing me on this will result in more situations like _this_.” She pointed sharply down at the now-desiccated corpse on the floor at her feet. “If you cannot do your jobs, then perhaps a human can!”

The Queen turned to the masked drone guard standing near the Runners' pen. “You! Release...” She frowned faintly and then jabbed a finger at the most likely looking human. “That one and bring it here.”

The drone did as commanded, deactivating the ward long enough to drag the human out of the pen and throw it at the Queen's feet before reactivating the ward to keep the others in. The Runner glared up at Coldamber, dark eyes full of fury. The Queen ignored him, far too used to the expression from a human for it to have any sort of effect on her.

“Listen well, human, because I will only say this once,” she told him, her voice low, menacing, and threaded heavily with compulsion magics. “You will approach the territory that Atlantis is in and make your way into the city. As you are not a Wraith, the wards will not stop you. Once you are inside, you will disable the wards so that the city can be destroyed once the fire bird is caught and brought back here. If you succeed in this task, then you will be freed from your current life. If you do not, I will feed upon your magic and life until you are nothing more than a shell. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” the Runner gritted out, sweat beading on his brow as he tried to fight the compulsion. “I understand you completely.”

“Good. Then you will be released near their outer ward line. Say nothing of your mission to the Atlanteans. Your life will be forfeit if you do,” Coldamber said. She gestured for one of her lieutenants to step forward. “Take the human to the ward line at dawn. Do not linger there yourself. Come back here immediately once your task is done. Do _not_ disappoint me in this.”

The lieutenant bowed deeply. “I will see the task through with honor, my queen,” he replied as he straightened up. He snapped his fingers at the Runner in an imperious manner. “You, come with me.”

The Runner got to his feet slowly, standing of a similar height to the lieutenant, who led him away to a holding cell to await the dawn. The Queen stalked out of the throne room, leaving the bodies of the three scouts for the others to clean up. The medics hadn't been able to save the injured scouts, as their wounds were too great for even the enhanced healing abilities common to all Wraith, as well as the healing magics the medics had employed.

Deeper into the Hive, Coldamber strode into a heavily warded room, passing through the magical barriers as if they weren't there. If she were anyone else save for a few of her most trusted lieutenants or a medic, the wards would've incapacitated if not killed her, and for a very good reason. A clear globe was suspended in the middle of the room, twice as large as was needed for a grown human male to sit inside. Floating within was a very elderly man, his hair snow white and his skin heavily wrinkled. The only clothes he wore were a simple pair of linen shorts that covered his lower torso and groin and little else, leaving his upper torso and chest completely bare. Silvery scars littered his torso, all of them grouped in a five-point pattern with a sixth scar in the center of the five points.

The man seemed to be dozing, his head bowed against his chest. He stirred when he heard Coldamber's footsteps, eyelids fluttering open to reveal pale red eyes that were dimmed and clouded over with age. He lifted his head, cocking it briefly before turning his limited attention to her.

“Your majesty,” he croaked. His voice was thready but still held a hint of a faint accent that Coldamber had never bothered to identify. “Is it time for our weekly chat? You're early.”

“Silence,” Coldamber hissed, her fingers curling sharply against her palms, her nails cutting into the skin there. “You will be pleased to know that we have located the last cowardly member of your kind. Soon it will be under our control and my kind will rise victorious once more.”

“And just how many Wraith do you have left? Maybe a hundred?” the man asked with a frail chuckle. “Face it, you're weak and dying. You haven't been able to spawn any more of your kind in over five hundred years. I doubt you'll be able to take full control of the planet like you think. You probably couldn't take over a small _village_ at this point.”

Coldamber snarled at him and then made her way over to a set of runes on the wall. She pressed three of them in quick succession and then stood back, watching with a sadistically pleased smile as the globe was suddenly filled with gouts of flame, completely covering the man within. His pained screams were like the finest music to the Queen's ears. Normally the Flame Guardian would have to go through a specific ritual to be reborn, and said ritual made the regeneration painless, but this? This created unimaginable pain for him as the flames that should have easily revitalized him burned away the old and created new in its place.

When the flames subsided and then faded away, the man within the globe was revealed. The fire had certainly done its job. Gone was the elder with near-blind eyes and shaking hands. In his place was a shaking young man who looked barely into his third decade, his skin clear and free of any scars and his hair dark and full once more. He lay at the bottom of the globe, the specially treated and enchanted garment he wore still ensuring his modesty. It also took care of any inconvenient waste problems after he'd been fed, making sure that his care was as hands-off as was possible.

“You speak so boldly for one who has been a prisoner for so long,” Coldamber told him. “Perhaps I will let you watch as I drain your fellow Guardian over and over again, leaving little time for them to recover between feedings and regenerations. Will you be so bold then, I wonder?”

With that, she turned on her heel and exited the room, leaving the trapped phoenix behind. Only when the Queen was fully out of earshot did the soft sounds of sobs fill the room.

-/-

Ronon waited a good ten minutes after the lieutenant had dropped him off outside the outer ward barrier for Atlantis the next morning, not trusting that the Wraith had truly left him. Even after that time elapsed, he moved along the ward line, trekking along on foot for a half mile before stopping again. Given that the only things he'd heard besides his own footsteps and breathing were the sounds of birds passing far overhead, he figured that he truly was alone. That, or the Wraith had masked itself with magic, but it hadn't seemed like it had wanted to piss off the Queen by disobeying her, so in all likelihood it had actually left.

Ronon debated whether or not he really wanted to follow Coldamber's commands. Going into Atlantis was tempting, but so was finding the nearest highway and hitching a ride to anywhere but here. The problem was the fucking tracker in his back. He didn't think that an emergency room would be the best place for a Wraith tracking party to show up in an attempt to retrieve him. Maybe Atlantis would be able to help him. After all, the Wraith couldn't get through the wards, so it was the safest place for him at the moment.

With that thought in mind, Ronon took a deep breath and then stepped forward, crossing the boundary line for the wards. He was immediately engulfed in a bright white glow. He got the faintest sense of movement before the all-obscuring light faded, revealing that he'd been moved... somewhere. It was definitely Ancient in origin, judging from the slick architecture and magitech surrounding him. He seemed to be in a cell of some kind, the walls made from a glowing blue magical field. It was mostly translucent, allowing him to see out into the room beyond, though the view wasn't the most stimulating, given that it was just plain white walls. One wall had a solid-looking door in it, which was the only exit out of the room.

A bench sat in the center of the cell, but that was the sole piece of furniture in the entire cell. Ronon sank down onto it, grateful for the chance to just sit down. His mind felt curiously clear, as if the lingering compulsions had been wiped away by the white glow that had surrounded him as he had been transported. He shifted position and then laid down, grimacing a little at how sore his body was. He'd hadn't been on a Run, but the grueling exercises the Wraith forced their prey to endure between Runs were brutal.

Ronon closed his eyes, resting his hands on his chest. He found himself dozing off surprisingly rapidly, feeling safe for the first time in a very long time. The sound of footsteps outside the cell had Ronon rousing, his entire body tensing as he listened to them. It took a moment for him to remember that he wasn't in the Hive any more but rather than in Atlantis. It was relatively safer than the Hive to be sure, but he wasn't sure _how_ much safer.

He sat up slowly, his posture wary. A petite woman stood outside the cell, accompanied by a taller man with messy dark hair. Both wore dark-colored uniforms, though the woman wore a khaki-colored jacket with red panels on it. What it meant, Ronon wasn't sure, but they seemed friendly, albeit wary, which Ronon understood. It was reasonable, after all. He was an unknown and they didn't know if he was a spy for the Wraith, a lost traveler, or something else.

Silence stretched for a long time before Ronon coughed and then cleared his throat before speaking. “Hey. Think I can get some water?” He paused and then added, “Please?”

The other man snorted softly. “Sure, buddy, but first we need to know who you are and what you're doing trespassing on government property.”

Ronon smiled bitterly. “It's the only choice I had,” he said. “It was cross the wards or death. I chose life.”

“A good reason, but you didn't know if the wards would kill you or not.”

Ronon shrugged. “Yeah, but it was worth it. Besides, I'm pretty sure if the wards were set to kill, it'd be a far better death than the one that awaited me if I didn't cross them. Quicker, too.”

The woman stepped forward with a faint frown. “The wards say that you have a tracer on you, but I can't see one.”

“That's because the fucking Wraith stuck it in my back,” Ronon said with a snort. “I don't want it in there any more than you do.”

The two outside the cell exchanged a look before the man spoke.

“You know about the Wraith?”

“Know? I lived with them for seven years. Not exactly my choice, of course. They took me and my fiancee when we were camping on our anniversary. Melena... They didn't keep her alive for very long. I'm guessing you know about them as well?” Ronon asked. “Then again, you live in Atlantis, so I'm assuming you do.”

“Yeah, we do,” the other man said. “I'm Colonel Sheppard. This is Security Chief Emmagan. And you are?”

“Ronon Dex,” Ronon replied. “Former Specialist in the US Army. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Sheppard just waved his hand dismissively. “You're not under my command. Colonel or Sheppard is fine. Thanks anyways.”

Ronon nodded. “No problem. So... The Wraith. I'll be upfront, the Queen sent me here to try and take down your wards. She wants the fire bird that's here, and since the wards won't let Wraith pass, she sent me instead. Tried to put a compulsion on me, but that transport spell that brought me here seems to have stopped it, so thanks for that.”

“No problem,” Sheppard said. He stuck his hands in his pockets as he surveyed Ronon. “We've got some pretty neat tech here, both magic-based and regular. We'd be happy to help try and get that tracker out of you, but we'll need your help.”

“I'll do just about anything if you're planning on taking down the Wraith,” Ronon said immediately. “I'll give you all the information I have on them. Hell, I'll even join in the fight if you let me.”

“We won't turn down the help,” the Security Chief said, “but we need to get that tracker out of you first.”

“Good plan,” Sheppard agreed. “Surgery first, information second.”

-/-

The surgery took several hours, though the healing process was far faster than traditional methods as the healers and doctors in the city had access to the best medical technology and magics available. Ronon was back up and walking within an hour of his surgery. He sat down with Sheppard and Emmagan (both of whom had given him leave to use their first names, figuring that titles would just bog things down if used continually), giving them all the information he could about the general location of the Hive, how many Wraith and humans were there, and what he knew about the defenses.

Ronon talked between bites of deliciously warm and flavorful food. He'd been able to take a shower as well, and had been given new clothes and shoes. It was amazing after almost a decade of the bland food the Wraith had fed him, and miles above the threadbare clothing he'd been wearing before. Just add in a proper weapon and he'd be set.

“Now,” he said, setting his fork down once he was done with his food, “the Wraith already have one of these fire birds. Thing is, I've never seen a bird. The Queen has this chamber deep in the Hive that's heavily warded. Only she and a few others can go in it. I've passed by it a few times and saw what was inside. She's got what looks like a giant ball set up in there with a guy stuck inside. Sometimes he's really old, sometimes he's in his early thirties. I don't know how he changes ages, but if I've got my mythology right, another name for a phoenix is fire bird, so it'd sort of make sense if he was one, to be honest. It'd be the perfect food source for a Wraith, though something tells me that the Queen isn't exactly sharing it with the others all that much, given the state of the Hive. There's barely a hundred of them left. Three less now, thanks to the damage you did earlier. Thanks for that.”

“No problem,” John said in faint amusement. “Always glad to help.”

“Good. Now, I was serious about wanting to help with the Wraith,” Ronon continued on. “My specialty is battle magic. If I can help any way to bring the fight to the Wraith, I want to do so.”

“Battle magic?” Teyla asked curiously. “That would be a great boon to the fight. I think we'd be fools to turn you down.”

“Then why don't you two work together on building an attack plan?” John suggested. “We can't win if we don't at least have some sort of game plan.”

Ronon nodded, picking up his glass of water and taking a drink. As he did so, he saw a small group of people enter the dining hall. The lead two were an oddly mismatched pair to Ronon's eyes, as one of them had a good eight inches on the other. They were talking animatedly with one another, hands flying as they spoke. As they moved through the line, the taller of the two went first, selecting food for the both of them. There was a moment when his companion reached for something and he lightly smacked it out of the way before pointing at a sign next to the serving platter.

That induced what looked like an epic rant, though Ronon couldn't hear it from where he was. That changed very shortly, however, but the specifics weren't exactly clear. Something about citrus, as far as Ronon could tell, but that was about it. He watched the little drama unfold with faint amusement. He didn't say anything as the taller of the two men drew his still-ranting companion away from the food line, but not before snagging two cups of blue jello and putting them on his own tray. As they drew near, the rant became clearer, though the tall man took the chance to talk between his companion's breaths.

“Look, McKay, they had a sign _and_ a ward over the platter. It couldn't have cross-contaminated,” he was saying as he guided McKay to a nearby table, where several of their fellow mages and scientists were already sitting. “Besides, you didn't even touch any of that fruit, not to mention that the ward automatically sterilizes any non-organic object that crosses it, _and_ they were using a metal spoon. If you're that worried, then just cast a detection charm on your food for any citrus and no, kiwis are not citrus. They're related to strawberries, which I know you love.”

McKay let out an annoyed huff as he sat down. “Why do you have to be so annoyingly logical?” he grumbled.

“Because while you can handle logic processing, your mouth and mind don't always flow at the same rate,” came the reply as his companion sat down across from him. “That's what the rest of us are here for: to remind you that, sometimes, you need to slow that great brain of yours down and _think_.”

“Well said, Doctor Kavanagh,” Teyla said with a light laugh, drawing attention to their table. Kavanagh bow his head in acceptance of her thanks, an amused smile curving his lips briefly.

“Yes, well, _someone_ has to remind our esteemed head of Sciences and Magics that he's only a mere mortal like the rest of us,” he replied, ignoring the slight kick McKay gave his ankle under the table. He instead handed McKay one of the cups of jello almost absently, setting it on his tray in a free space, along with a spoon. McKay eyed the jello and then sighed.

“Fine, fine, I'll stop,” he said as he picked up his spoon. He pointed it at Kavanagh. “No gloating.”

“I wouldn't dream of it,” Kavanagh assured him. Ronon got the feeling that plenty of gloating would happen, though likely outside of McKay's direct line of vision.

“That common?” Ronon asked Teyla, who nodded.

“Yes, it is,” she said. She gestured at John. “The Colonel learned that quickly enough yesterday.”

“You're new here?” Ronon looked at John, surprised. John shrugged.

“Today's my second day,” he said with a crooked smile. Ronon snorted sharply.

“Hell of a way to start a new job.”

“Tell me about it,” John replied. He shook his head. “It's definitely going to be one of the more... interesting trial by fires I've heard of. An ancient race of beings intent on using all of humanity as food. That's a new one for me.”

“At least it's not ghosts,” Ronon said.

“Or zombies,” Kavanagh added.

“Or whales.”

They all turned to look at McKay, who lifted his chin a little in defiance. “Whales?” Ronon asked, confused. “What's so scary about whales?”

“They're huge and can eat you,” McKay replied. “I don't trust them, and haven't since I saw Pinocchio when I was a kid.”

“Rodney, most whales eat plankton,” Teyla pointed out. “They don't eat humans. I'm not even sure if there's a recorded incident of a whale actually eating a human.”

“I've never heard of one,” Ronon said. He took a drink of water. “It's just tall tales told by sailors. Sea dragons don't even eat humans. The largest thing they eat are seals and the occasional walrus.”

McKay blinked. “How do you _know_ that?”

“I went to college,” Ronon replied dryly. “I got a degree in battle magics with a minor in magizoology.”

“That's an odd combination.”

“Says the man with a doctorate in magitech and then another in mundane physics,” Kavanagh pointed out. “You can't exactly talk.”

“Again with the logic,” McKay muttered before shoving a forkful of food into his mouth. Kavanagh rolled his eyes and then turned back to his own food. Ronon noticed he mainly ate meat with a small amount of fruit and vegetables on the side. Not that the food choices of the other man really mattered; it was just one of the things Ronon noticed about people. He liked people watching, something Melena used to tease him about whenever they went to a mall or similarly crowded place. It was part situational awareness and part sheer curiosity on his part.

Ronon sat back as he took in everything around him, watching the people interact. For a new home, Atlantis didn't seem like too bad of a place. He could definitely see himself settling in quite nicely, assuming he was allowed to do so. He just hoped that would be the case.

-/-

Avan watched Ronon talking with John and Teyla, trying to do so without being too obvious about it. He didn't completely trust him, even if he'd been given a complete work-over by Doctors Beckett and Heightmeyer and had been kept in a null-magic cell for several hours. He had been under the influence of the Wraith for seven years, after all, and judging from everything Ronon had reported about the Wraith, it was seven years too long to not have been affected by them.

He'd kept his worries to himself for the time being, deciding to keep an eye on the ex-Runner just in case. It was better to be proven paranoid rather than right, in his opinion. In time he'd share his worries with Rodney, but for now he'd stay quiet. Avan finished his food, setting his utensils on his tray before gathering them up.

“Finished, McKay?” he asked, nodding at the tray in front of his friend. Rodney turned away from the conversation he'd struck up with Zelenka.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Thanks,” he said, setting his silverware on his tray. Avan grabbed his and Rodney's trays, carefully balancing them in his hands before taking them over to the dish bins on the rolling cart near the kitchen area. Once everything was sorted in the correct bins, Avan headed to his lab, activating the security and privacy protocols once inside. With a sigh, he let his glamors fade as he sat down in his chair, the faint tugging on his magic fading along with the glamors.

His health was far worse than he'd shown even Rodney. The Judgment geas and bond he shared with Rodney were some of the few things that was actively keeping him alive, to be honest. Being within the highly magical ambient environment of Atlantis helped as well, providing enough magic to help sustain the ability to perform human-level amounts of spells. He hadn't been able to shift to his full phoenix form ever since his bond with Din had suddenly and sharply faded.

At first, Avan had thought it was because of the overwhelming sense of grief that had washed over him and continued to well up at some of the most inopportune times. After a while, he realized that, while the grief was a part of it, the bond he had shared with his mate had strengthened him greatly. His eyes had faded from the vibrant shades of blue found in the hottest part of a flame to the dull reds of dying embers surprisingly quickly, a sure sign of a dying phoenix. The worst part was the fact that his death was so long and drawn out, lasting centuries rather than hours or days, and he didn't know why.

There had been times he'd felt like ending it permanently, but had stopped himself when he thought of what Din would say. Avan scrubbed a hand over his face. Fuck. Din. Gods, he missed him. Phoenixes didn't have fixed genders, being creatures drawn from pure magic and flame, and could shift physical gender with every regeneration should they choose to do so. Din and Avan had switched genders as they liked over the centuries, though the last time they'd been together, they'd both been in male bodies and had identified as male at that time.

Avan hadn't regenerated in all that time, not wanting to go through the ritual without his mate. It had become an intimate occasion to go build the ceremonial pyre of cedar and other fragrant woods in a secluded place in the world, pour the scented oils over the wood, and then light it with their combined magics before stepping into the flames hand-in-hand. It was a time of worshiping one another as the flames cleansed them of the worries and weight of the mortal world. Avan didn't want to ruin his memories of the ritual, and it felt like a sort of penance to deny himself the rejuvenation, assuming he even had the ability to do it now.

Avan wasn't sure he'd survive the process, to be honest, as it did pull on a phoenix's natural well of magic to initiate it, and phoenixes had far larger wells of magic than humans did. As it stood, his magical abilities were about par for an above-average human mage, and didn't seem to be going down any more than that, thankfully. He needed to go through a goodly amount of meditation and restorative potions most days, depending on what he was doing and how much magic he'd expended on any particular day.

That day hadn't been the most strenuous of days so far, but he still downed a restorative potion and then settled into a meditative state, trying to clear his thoughts of his long-lost. Avan didn't even realize he was crying until he felt his entire body shudder and tears flow down his face. His entire body folded into itself as his grief consumed him, the familiar surge of bitter emotions surging through him. He wasn't sure how long he cried, nor when Rodney had come in, but suddenly his friend was there, placing an awkward hand on his shoulder in an attempt to soothe him.

Rodney had never been good with dealing with others' emotions, especially not ones that made them cry. He'd seen Avan mourn before over the years, and usually did his best to help by providing food and drinks if at all possible. It wasn't possible at the moment, so he just stood there and made soothing noises until the crying petered out. Avan dashed his tears aside, scrubbing them from his face with the heel of his hand.

“Sorry,” Avan mumbled, his voice rough from his crying. “It just hit me all at once. Din would've loved Atlantis and all the people here. He would've had fun helping with all the experiments and discovering new things. I think the two of you would've gotten along amazingly.”

“I'm sure we would have,” Rodney agreed loyally. “From everything you've told me over the years, he was a great person.” He paused before continuing on with, “Do you want to take the rest of the day off and just reset?”

Avan shook his head. “No. We've got work to do. We need to finish testing the array and then start on Simpson's calculations for the power output for the ZPM.”

Rodney squeezed Avan's shoulder. “Are you sure? Because--”

“I'm sure,” Avan insisted. “Just give me a moment.”

He took several deep breaths to center himself before nodding very firmly just once. “Alright, ready.”

“You look like shit, by the way,” Rodney told him, taking refuge in his usual blunt approach. “Also, your glamors are down.”

“I'm well aware,” Avan replied dryly, reapplying the glamors on his eyes. “Thanks for the update. Can we just get to work and not worry about it?”

“You might want to lower the privacy wards just in case someone needs to talk to us,” Rodney suggested, taking a seat across from him. Avan nodded, absently waving a hand and lowering the wards. Only he and Rodney had access to the lab when the privacy wards were up, which made doing his meditation and lowering his defenses and glamors easier when only the two of them could see him.

They fell into their usual pattern of working together and bouncing ideas off one another after they finished testing the array, often at a rapid pace and high volume. Occasionally others would wander in, coming in to see what was going on and being discussed. Sometimes they would even join in. Soon enough, there were at least six others in the lab, all throwing around ideas back and forth. Whiteboards were filled with equations and formulae, parts of which were being erased and rewritten often as time went on.

Eventually, they had to take a break for dinner, moving the conversation to the cafeteria for the duration of the meal before heading back to the lab. They stayed there until late at night and yawns were overwhelmingly prevalent. Rodney eventually called it for the night when he nearly fell asleep at the whiteboard.

“Alright, everyone, let's stop for the night,” he announced. “As much as I want to keep going, we should probably come back with fresh eyes in the morning. I know my brain's starting to get foggy, and that usually results in more explosions than I would want.”

That got a few tired laughs from the others before they started to filter out of the lab, eventually leaving just Rodney and Avan to clean up everything and preserve the writing on the whiteboards with a few simple spells. They set the wards to keep the lab safe and sound before heading back to their separate quarters. Their quarters were just a few doors down from one another, though there really wasn't any continued need for them to live close together. It was just a preference they had now, and no one had made a fuss about it, so neither had they.

Avan said his good nights to Rodney before heading into his quarters, yawning as he got ready for bed. It had been a long day, and surprisingly emotionally draining. He supposed it wasn't too surprising, as it had been a while since he'd broken down like that. Maybe he'd been due for it. Avan shook his head to clear it of his thoughts, not wanting to go back down that road again.

He got into his night clothes and got into bed, turning off the lights with a mental nudge. Atlantis did as asked, dimming the lights to a comfortable level of darkness, leaving just enough light to see by if Avan needed it. It had been a pleasant surprise to find out just how responsive the city was to his requests. As he slipped off to sleep, Avan's last thoughts were that Din would have loved the city just as much.

His dreams that night were of his mate, the two of them flying through the air together. It had been such a long time since he'd flown that Avan barely remembered the feel of the wind running through his feathers. The dream was a pleasant one, the flight long and lazy, seemingly lasting for days on end. They talked of everything and nothing, and Avan could almost pretend that it really was Din flying next to him and not a figment of his imagination.

The dream shifted, as dreams are wont to do, to a scene where they were both human. They were walking along the beach they'd been flying over not a half-second ago, the sunset tinging the sky with brilliant golds, reds, and peaches. They walked hand-in-hand, the familiar warm weight feeling almost real against Avan's palm.

“I miss you,” he said suddenly, drawing to a halt. Din turned to look at him, the features of his face momentarily lost as the dying light of the sun bathed him in its glow. “I miss you like a limb, like my heart was torn from me and I'm only existing because my body doesn't know it's dead.”

Din smiled sadly and raised a hand to rest against Avan's cheek. Avan leaned into the touch, waking with the phantom warmth of his mate's fingers against his skin.

 


	3. Part the Third

General Jack O'Neill was _not_ a happy man. He'd much rather be fishing at his cabin with his two spouses either reading or tinkering quietly with something nearby. Jack smiled to himself faintly at the thought of Daniel and Sam. They'd met almost twenty years prior at a fundraising gala in Washington DC back when Jack had been a mere Colonel. A common acquaintance had introduced the three of them and things had blossomed from there. Daniel and Sam had been married for a few years at that point, but both had felt the pull of an unfinished mating bond towards Jack and he towards them.

All of them were of creature blood, with Daniel of sphinx ancestry and Sam a falcon shifter; Jack himself was a werewolf. All three species had plenty of triad bonds throughout history, so barely an eyelash was batted when Jack married the both of them a year and a half later. Charlie, his son from his rather disastrous first marriage, had been a little confused at first, as he had been rather young and not quite understanding what a mate bond was, but as time went on, he got used to having four parents.

Jack was jolted out of his pleasant thoughts and back into reality when his name was said. He blinked and then focused on the man across from him. “Sorry, Mr. Woolsey. What did you say?”

Woolsey let out a soft huff. “I was asking if you had heard anything in regards to the Atlantis situation. It's been almost a month and we haven't had any updates since the arrival of Mr. Dex.”

“No further Wraith sightings, and our researchers haven't found any more information about them in either Lemuria or Atlantis' databases,” Jack reported, folding his hands on the desk before him. “They're continuing to look, of course, but the Ancients didn't exactly have Google.”

“And the wards are still just under war status?”

“As far as I know,” Jack said. “I haven't heard any different from Colonel Sheppard or Security Chief Emmagan. We've closed down the access roads to the city; we've been resupplying them via transport runes. I haven't heard about any major complaints, but then again, Atlantis has always been pretty self-sufficient, especially with the small amount of farmland on that island in the lake and the greenhouses on the city itself.”

Woolsey sat back in his chair, frowning. “How do we know that the Wraith are actually going to attack? And has anyone gone to check out the site that the Hive is supposedly at?”

“We don't, but I don't think Dex would lie about something like that,” Jack replied. “And we've sent people out, but there's no sign above ground. Dex said it was heavily warded and deep underground, so the search teams are having to figure out a method of detecting, if not the Wraith themselves, then maybe their wards.”

Woolsey's frown deepened. “So.. all in all, we don't have anything concrete on the Wraith, and we're wasting precious magical resources and money while we wait for something to supposedly happen. It's been almost a month. If an attack was going to happen, it should've happened by now.”

“We don't know that,” Jack pointed out. “There's no way to tell what the Wraith are planning.”

Woolsey checked his notes. “And this... Flame Guardian? Any word on what that is?”

Jack shook his head. “Nothing. The main theory is that they think a phoenix is there, but so far, nothing.”

“A phoenix?” Woolsey asked. “Phoenixes don't exist any more. Everyone knows that.”

Jack shrugged. “Maybe it got lost in translation or means something entirely different to the Wraith. As I said, it's just the main theory we've got right now.”

Woolsey sighed. “If nothing happens within the next few days, the Department of Homeland Security is going to order Atlantis to stand the wards back down to normal security levels. We can't keep diverting resources and manpower to something that isn't going to happen.”

Jack arched an eyebrow at that. “They're not considering the Wraith a credible threat? That's going to bite someone on the ass at some point, and it's probably going to be the people in Atlantis.”

“The Wraith can't get past the wards, so there's no point keeping them that high,” Woolsey said, getting to his feet. He tucked his papers back into his briefcase and then gave Jack a nod. “If you'd let the Atlantis command team know so they can make the announcement, that would be great. Have a good day, General.”

“Yeah, you too.” Jack watched him go and then shook his head. It was bureaucrats like Woolsey that made him despair for the state of humanity and the worthiness of his job at times. Maybe he should start thinking about an early retirement. Spending more time with his family sounded like an amazing idea. Jack turned back to the work his meeting had interrupted, his thoughts straying more and more to his husband and wife as time went on. After a few more hours he put his work aside and headed home, intent on relaxing and perhaps seeking Sam and Daniel's advice about the whole Atlantis matter. His two geniuses usually gave good advice, after all.

-/-

The news that they were to lower the wards back to their regular levels caused more than a little consternation amongst the senior staff and Council members. A meeting was called after the news came in, with John leading the talking-- or at least, trying to do so. Most of the meeting was spent corralling the Council members and herding them in a useful direction. It felt like they were trying to herd cats. It was as if they were very small and very willful children rather than thinking, reasoning adults.

It devolved from there, with the Council members arguing over and with one another in rather loud voices. Most of the senior staff ignored them, conversing quietly amongst themselves in a far more useful and calm manner. It was only when the Council got too loud that the others took notice.

“Look, if we just collect all the fire-based creatures in the city, we'll probably be able to figure out what it is the Wraith want,” one of them was saying. “Maybe we could even send them off of the city until this whole mess is over. That way the Wraith don't have a reason to attack us if our wards are down.”

“The wards aren't going to be fully down, just back to normal,” his opponent said. “Besides, how are we going to tell who or what is a fire-based creature? Are you going to have them volunteer?”

The first man sniffed haughtily. “Of course not. It'll be mandatory. If the Wraith want a flame-based creature, they'll get it. They might be able to be reasoned with. We could have one do a quick check of all the creature blooded people and take the one they want.”

“You foul, loathsome son of a bitch. Just what the ever-living _fuck_ are you suggesting?!”

Silence reigned after that. David Parrish, normally one of the most kind and soft-spoken people in the city, was glaring angrily at the Council member, hands clenched at his sides. A faint green glow shimmered over his skin, and bird-like wings that looked to be made of vines, leaves, and other plant matter faded into view, autumnal browns, reds, and oranges creating a startling image.

“If you're seriously proposing we just hand over one of our citizens to those beasts, you've got another thing coming,” Parrish continued on, his wings trembling in his anger. Lorne stepped forward, stopping next to his husband. He wrapped a gentle hand around one of Parrish's wrists, squeezing lightly.

“David,” he began, but Parrish shook his head.

“ _No_ ,” he said firmly. “Evan, I'm not going to let them talk about _sacrificing_ one of our people just for their own comfort. If that's the sort of corrupt bullshit they're going to try to push, I'm not going to just stand by and watch someone I know and like be given to a Wraith that is going to torture them for gods know how long.” He eyed the Council members, who were looking back at him with no little worry and some fear. “I'm not going to listen to these racist and cowardly idiots go on about giving up someone just because they're afraid. They're not even considering fighting against the Wraith. We know their numbers and we know they're weak. There's less than a hundred of them. We could likely match them even if they all showed up tomorrow. We've got more weapons, fighters, and a better defensive position.”

Lorne laughed quietly. “Maybe so, but fighting amongst ourselves isn't going to help right now.” He looked over at the Colonel. “Sir, it's ultimately up to you since you're lead on our defenses. What are we going to do?”

“We'll follow the orders given to us, but we'll tweak the regular wards,” John decided. “The Wraith can't get through them right now, but that's not to say that they won't try sending something or someone through them again when they're back to normal. We'll keep the element that sends unrecognized people, beings, and things to the null-magic cells. Given the fact that they're in one of the most secure and reinforced areas of the city, there's not much they'd be able to do to hurt the city outside of a heavy physical bomb. We'd have to check with Ronon to see if that's their style at all.”

“What if we tried to negotiate with them?” Weir asked, stepping forward.

“Negotiate?” Rodney let out a harsh laugh as he joined them in the center of the room. “Would you allow cows to negotiate with you? Or chickens? We're _food_ to them, Elizabeth, and apparently some of us are more tasty to them than others. I don't think there's going to be any sort of negotiating with the Wraith.”

Weir frowned at him. “We won't know until we try,” she said. She turned to the Council members. “Misters Connolly and Atkinson, we won't be going that far unless absolutely necessary. We'll exhaust all other avenues first. Hopefully we can resolve this without fighting. So far, the Wraith haven't attacked, and it's been a month. It's entirely possible that they've moved on or forgotten about the whole thing.”

Rodney rolled his eyes at that and then shook his head. Obviously Elizabeth was going to be stubborn about the whole peaceful route, something he felt wasn't going to go over particularly well with the Wraith. They'd probably laugh themselves silly; Rodney would if he was them and his prey tried to negotiate with him. It might be cynical of him, but that was alright with him. He had no illusions about himself, and cynicism was definitely part of his make up.

The meeting broke up after that, with Lorne guiding his husband out of the room and to the greenhouses so he could calm down fully in the presence of his plants. Rodney gathered up his tablet as the others left, and was about to leave himself and go to his quarters when John stopped him.

“Hey, Rodney, do you have any plans tonight?” he asked. Rodney frowned and then shook his head.

“No, why?”

“Want to join me for dinner once I reset the wards? It'll be entirely citrus free, I promise,” John said, doing his best to seem calm and collected. Even at his age, his stomach felt like it was filled with snakes that were twisting and turning in his nervousness.

Rodney blinked and then stared a little before answering. “Dinner? With just you? Like a date?”

“Yeah, like a date,” John replied, “but only if you want it to be. Otherwise, it'll just be dinner like normal.”

“No, no, a date is perfectly fine,” Rodney said quickly, not wanting to miss his chance. Over the past month, he'd found the Colonel to be attractive both mentally and physically, and had contemplated seeing if he was interested in men. Rodney himself was an equal-opportunity type of person, and if he was interested in labels, he'd consider himself bisexual or possibly pansexual, as neither physical nor expressed gender had really held any sort of importance for him so long as the person he was interested in expressed a similar interest in him and was intelligent enough to hold their own against him. Having good looks never hurt, of course, but intelligence was the main driving factor for Rodney when it came to romantic partners.

John smiled, the expression warm and bright. “Great. Meet me on the west pier. How does seven sound?”

Rodney checked his watch and then nodded. “Sounds great to me,” he said, quickly setting a reminder on his tablet so he wouldn't get entirely lost in his work and forget about it. “I'll see you then.”

John nodded and then strolled out of the room, hands stuck in his pockets and his posture loose and happy. Rodney watched him go, shamelessly checking out his ass before following him out of the room. He went to the lab he shared with Avan, unaware he was humming happily to himself until Avan, who was working there, commented on it.

“Someone's happy,” the phoenix said, an amused smile on his face. “Did the meeting actually go that well?'

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Hardly,” he replied. “The Council got so bad that Parrish of all people got so pissed that he half-shifted on them and verbally tore them to pieces. I barely had to say anything.”

Avan's eyebrows rose at that. “Seriously? _Parrish_?”

“I know, right?” Rodney said with a laugh. “Lorne had to take him to the greenhouses to calm him down. I'm pretty sure Atkinson nearly pissed himself.”

“That doesn't explain why you're so happy, though I can see why it'd be funny,” Avan said. “What happened after the meeting?”

“Sheppard-- John –asked me to dinner tonight,” Rodney said, unable to hide the pleased smile that sprouted. Avan returned the smile, glad for his friend.

“And I'm assuming you said yes?”

Rodney nodded. “Yeah. We'll be meeting on the west pier at seven.”

“Good for you,” Avan told him. “I'm happy for you. It's been a while since you've gone on a date.”

Rodney winced. “Yeah, well, the less said about that, the better. I learned my lesson. No more geologists.”

“Or assholes who're interested in only your money and nothing else,” Avan said dryly. “And you said he was a bad lay, so there's that.”

Rodney wrinkled his nose at that. “True. He was very selfish in quite a few areas. I should've ditched him when he didn't offer to pay for his portion of the meal.”

“Asshole,” Avan muttered.

“Definitely,” Rodney agreed as he took a seat next to him. “Enough about him. He's in the past. I've got a date with a sexy Colonel later tonight, but for now, we have work to do.”

-/-

John checked everything over, making sure all the dishes were set and ready to go. The dishes that were supposed to be warm were being kept hot by specific charms, and the dishes that were supposed to be kept cold were done so by similar but opposite charms. He'd set up everything on a large blanket that had a localized weather ward set up over it to keep the area comfortable as they sat there and the day turned to night. Lastly, there was an orb of light that floated overhead, letting off a warm glow that illuminated the area around them.

The night was supposed to be clear and the stars highly visible since it was a new moon, something John hoped Rodney would appreciate. Now all he needed was the man himself. John debated whether or not to hail Rodney over the radio, but as it was still a few minutes until seven, it wasn't like he was late or anything. At precisely seven o' clock, Rodney stepped out of the nearest transporter, having changed into a button-down shirt and jeans. John was wearing similarly casual clothing, not wanting to put too much pressure on things by dressing too formally.

“Rodney,” John said, getting to his feet. “Right on time.”

“I do try when it's important,” Rodney said. He paused awkwardly before focusing on the food. “Wow, that all looks good.”

“Thanks,” John replied with a small smile. He gestured at the blanket. “Feel free to see what there is. I made sure everything is citrus-free, as promised.”

Rodney nodded and then took a seat on the blanket, running a hand over the soft fabric. “I can't wait to try it,” he said as John sat down across from him.

“Then don't,” John said. He handed Rodney an empty plate. “Here, feel free.”

Rodney smiled at him before serving himself. John did the same, and soon they were eating happily, taking occasional breaks for conversation. As time went on, the food ran out but the conversation didn't, becoming more and more relaxed with each passing minute. It was only when Rodney realized that he was doing most of the talking that he started to get tense and awkward. He slowed down, stopping eventually as he petered out in the middle of a faint rant about the stupidity of some of his subordinates.

“I'm talking too much again, aren't I?” he asked, letting his hands fall to his lap. “I'm sorry. I do that a lot. Avan teases me about that on occasion.” Rodney winced. “And now I'm talking about another guy while on a date with you. Great.” His shoulders slumped. And the date had been going so well too. Damn it.

“There's no need to apologize,” John said quickly. “Seriously, I don't mind that you're talking a lot. It just means you're passionate about what you do and want to share it with others. As for talking about Avan, he's important to you. Here, I'll ask the question so we can get it out of the way: are you or were you ever interested in being involved romantically with him?”

Rodney's reaction was immediate and rather visceral. “What? Fuck no,” he said sharply. “He's like the annoying older brother I never asked for but got stuck with. Besides, he's still ridiculously in love with his mate, even though Din has been dead for over seven hundred years. He doesn't date because of that.”

John winced. “Ah. Yeah, I can see why. That has to be hard for him.”

“It hits him hard sometimes even now,” Rodney said softly. “Every so often he just sort of breaks down. All of this mess with the Wraith hasn't helped. He's thought he's been the last phoenix for so long that hearing that they might have another one in their clutches is messing with his head.”

“Why doesn't he just go after them himself?” John asked. “I mean, phoenixes can instantly teleport anywhere they like, right?”

Rodney shook his head. “The broken bond has sapped a lot of his strength. He has about the same magical strength as I do, to be honest, but he hasn't shifted to full form in centuries.”

“Damn. I can't imagine dealing with that,” John said quietly. “Not being able to shift into my form would be rough. I've been shifting since I was a baby and I couldn't even contemplate not doing that any more.”

“I've always been a little jealous of people who're able to shift,” Rodney admitted. “I just have magic. I have a second cousin who is a werecat, but that was because her mother is one and it's her father who's my first cousin.”

“Hey, magic is a great thing to have,” John said. “Don't knock it. You've been able to do a lot of amazing things with your magic.”

“Thanks,” Rodney said with a crooked smile. “That means a lot to me.”

“No problem.” John smiled back at him. “I've been having a good time tonight.”

“Really?” Rodney asked, perking up a little.

“Yeah, and I'd like to do this again, if you'd want,” John said.

Rodney beamed at him. “I'd love that.” He was still rather surprised that John even wanted to go to dinner with him, let alone date him. The fact that he wanted to keep doing this was amazing and slightly overwhelming. Rodney wasn't used to people actively wanting to date him for _him._ In his experience, people wanted to date him for the things he could do for them. He'd learned to keep his mouth shut about how much money he made each year, though hiding his intelligence was a near-impossible feat.

“Great,” John said, looking pleased with Rodney's answer. “Thank you. Hopefully it'll be relatively soon, assuming nothing happens.”

“Definitely,” Rodney agreed. He sat back, a warmth spreading through him. Neither of them noticed the figure in the shadows who'd come in a little before Rodney had started talking about Avan. They'd initially come to speak to John about something, but had stopped when they'd heard what was being talked about.

The figure slipped away as John and Rodney kept talking, heart thumping. So there _was_ a phoenix in Atlantis, it was someone named Avan, and McKay knew exactly who they were. Good to know. That would hopefully make things easier in the long run. Now to tell those who could and would actually do something about it.

-/-

Rodney was summoned to the Council chambers three days later. Rather grumpy that he'd been interrupted in the middle of his work, he strode into the chambers, poking away at the nearly ever-present tablet he kept in his hands during the work day.

“This had better be quick,” he announced, finally looking up when he reached the center of the room. “I was in the middle of something very important. What do you need me for that you couldn't just send me an email or contact me over the radio?”

The sound of the door closing and locking behind him and then the heavy security wards going up had Rodney tensing immediately. “Elizabeth?” he asked, focusing on Weir. “What the hell is going on?”

Weir folded her hands on the curved table in front of her before leaning forward a little. “Doctor McKay, word has come to us that you know where the phoenix that the Wraith are looking for is, and who, exactly, they are. We would like an explanation as to why you have kept this to yourself and why you didn't immediately disclose that information to us.”

Rodney stared at her and then looked around the room, meeting each Council member in the eye before focusing on Weir again. “You think I know who the phoenix is and that I'm just going to give them up to you? What are you--” He stopped, horror dawning on his face. “You're going to give it over to the Wraith, aren't you? You're just going to give them what they want and hope like hell they're not going to attack us or something worse? What if they use the phoenix's abilities to strengthen themselves and then go attack the nearest city? Did you even think about the collateral damage that might happen? And what makes you think I'm going to go along with this?”

“Doctor McKay, I think you're laboring under the falsity that you have a choice in the matter,” Mr. Atkinson said seriously. “You have had the answer to our problem all along, but you haven't chosen to share it. You _will_ share it, or we'll make you. It's as simple as that.”

Rodney felt like he was in shock. “F-force me?” he spluttered. “What the _fuck_? You're kidding, right? Elizabeth, you can't be going along with this. The Wraith haven't come back. Obviously they're not strong enough to follow through on their threats. The military and government are dealing with trying to find their Hive. They have to breathe air, so there has to be an above-ground vent or entrance to the Hive. Once they find that, it'll be easy enough to deal with them.”

“Be that as it may, the fact that you have had the key to our problem all this time is an issue,” Weir said. “We've been authorized to use whatever means necessary short of torture.” She gestured at a suited man behind her who had been half-hidden in the shadows. “Agent Everton here will be assisting us with those means. We take the security and safety of this city and its people very seriously, Doctor McKay, and if it means that giving the Wraith what they want is the way to do that, then so be it.”

Rodney stepped back, his grip tightening on his tablet. “You're all insane!” he said as he started backing away towards the door. “There's no way in hell you're going to do this to me!”

He turned and started running towards the door, but before he could reach it, he was hit by a spell from behind that knocked him out cold. Rodney crashed to the floor, his tablet skittering out of reach.

-/-

John knocked on the wall just inside the door to Avan and Rodney's shared lab as he stepped inside. Avan and Zelenka were testing out their gemstone array, running low amounts of magical power through it as they kept watch on the diagnostic charms hovering above it. Zelenka looked over as Avan jotted down the results on his tablet.

“Colonel Sheppard. How can we help you?” he asked, causing Avan to look up from his work.

“Have either of you seen Rodney?” John inquired. Avan and Zelenka exchanged glances before Avan shook his head.

“No, not for about an hour or so,” he replied. “He was called away from the lab and said he'd be back soon.” He frowned. “Why do you ask?”

“I needed to talk to him,” John said, rubbing at the back of his neck briefly. “I tried him on the radio, but he's not answering.”

Avan's frown deepened at that. “Rodney never takes his radio off unless absolutely necessary.” He reached up and tapped at his earpiece. “McKay, this is Kavanagh. Where are you?”

There was no response, which had Avan get to his feet. He tapped his radio again. “Control, this is Doctor Kavanagh. Do you have a lock on Doctor McKay's current location? It's important that I speak with him in person and he's not answering his radio.”

“One moment, Doctor Kavanagh.” Control paused for a short while before coming back on line. “Doctor McKay is currently in the infirmary. No word as to why.”

“Thank you. Kavanagh out.” Avan took in a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “He's in the infirmary.”

“What? Why?” Zelenka asked, immediately cutting off the flow of magic to the array and then getting up as well.

“They didn't say,” Avan replied. John was heading out the door at that point, with Avan and Zelenka following quickly after. They took the nearest transporter to the infirmary and hurried inside. Rodney wasn't immediately visible, but there was a bed at the far end of the ward with the curtains drawn around it. Doctor Beckett was standing at the end of the bed looking rather frazzled, and immediately focused on the three of them when he heard them draw near.

“Colonel, Peter, Radek. How can I help you?” he asked.

“We were told Rodney was here,” John said, not bothering to beat around the bush. “Is he alright?”

Carson sighed and then twitched his hand, raising a quick privacy ward around the four of them. “I don't really know, to be honest,” he admitted. “He was brought in here about ten minutes ago by Chuck. He was rather dazed and confused. I've given him a mild sedative, drawn some blood, and sent it through the machines to test it. His initial exam didn't reveal anything unusual, which I find odd. I'm only telling you this because I know the three of you will learn it anyways, be it from Rodney himself or another source.”

“We won't ask anything specific,” John said. “Do you know where he was before he was brought here?”

“Near the meeting rooms, according to Chuck. He found Rodney wandering the halls there,” Carson replied. He scrubbed a hand over his face and then shook his head. “I just hope he turns out alright.”

“The meeting rooms, hm?” Avan murmured. “Duly noted. Thank you, Carson.”

He turned and left the infirmary, Radek following shortly after. John stayed behind long enough to see Rodney for himself, taking in his dozing form before leaving as well, heading to the security office to see if he could find anything there.

  
  


Avan took the transporter nearest to the meeting rooms, eyes narrowed a little as he tried to find traces of what had happened to Rodney. It almost sounded like he'd been enchanted or dosed with some sort of potion. He _knew_ Rodney. Rodney insisted on always being in control of himself almost to the point of neurosis, so for him to be so dazed and confused was highly suspicious.

Avan cast a tracing spell, following the trail Rodney had left. It meandered through the halls, and as he came closer to the Council meeting rooms, the trail got more and more erratic. Radek followed along behind Avan, not wanting his fellow mage to fall prey to whatever had hurt Rodney, and if he _did_ , he'd be able to get help.

When Avan reached the Council chambers, he paused at the open door before cautiously going inside, magic glittering in his palm at the ready just in case. He frowned when he just saw an empty room. How odd. Avan turned to say something to Radek when the door suddenly slid shut and a surprisingly heavy suppression ward snapped into place around him, runes on the floor starting to glow, keeping him in place. A man Avan had never seen before shimmered into being, coming into sight from behind a concealing spell.

“Ah, the phoenix,” he said, running a hand absently down his suit-clad torso before adjusting the set of his jacket as he came to a halt in front of Avan. “Hm. You don't look all that special to me. Then again, the Colonel can turn into a dragon and he doesn't look all that dangerous initially. Still, I wonder why McKay fought so hard to protect you. Just what are you to him?”

Avan glared at him, wishing he could summon his magic to him. The suppression ward kept his magic locked down to the bare minimum, leaving him with just about enough magic to light a candle and nothing more. “One of the oldest friends he has,” he gritted out. “Who the fuck are you?”

The other man smiled thinly. “The man who's going to solve all of Atlantis' problems, starting with you.” He gestured with one hand, causing a glowing dome to pop into place around Avan, the runes chalked on the floor shifting from a pale blue to a poisonous green. “Now then, what to do with you while we wait for the Wraith to be contacted? Ah, I know!”

A snap of his fingers later and Avan was suddenly transported to a dark cell, though where that cell was located, he had no idea. There was just enough light to see by and little else. Great. Rodney had been compromised somehow, be that magically, by potion, or both, and now this had happened. What was next, flying monkeys?

Avan let out a sharp huff of air before sinking down on the lone piece of furniture in the cell-- a bunk bolted to the wall at about waist height –anger, annoyance, and a fair bit of worry warring in his chest. He needed to get out of here, and _fast_. He took in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then settled into a meditative state. Magic was needed here, and the more of it he had access to, the better.

After about ten minutes or so, Avan opened his eyes and then started testing out the cell he was in. He could feel wards laying quiescent behind the walls. What they blocked against, he wasn't sure, but he was sure he'd find out soon enough. Likely against the more mundane types of magic, but he was a phoenix. He had a few tricks up his sleeves that would hopefully work.

Avan gathered all of his magic around him, the air starting to heat up around him. Soon, it looked like he was surrounded by a heavy heat haze, the air becoming dry and sauna-like. He might not be able to shift into full phoenix form, but it was possible that he could have just enough magic available to him to transport himself away from here and back to Atlantis. Avan concentrated on his quarters, building a complete picture of the room in his mind before letting his magic fly free.

The room shimmered around him briefly before snapping back into place, something that had Avan letting out a cry of dismay. Whoever it was that had taken him had somehow effectively warded against phoenix travel which, as far as he knew, was all but impossible to do. He slumped back against the wall, feeling drained from both the sudden expenditure of his magical reserves and from the weight of the situation he was in as it suddenly crashed into him. He'd gotten complacent after being free for so long, so hadn't expected anyone to be able to actually hurt him, let alone capture him.

Avan leaned his head back against the wall, mind racing. What was he going to do? Getting out of here seemed to be the most important thing, naturally, but without the aid of his magic, it was going to be a lot harder than it had looked at first. A physical approach might be better, or, now that he thought about it, maybe attacking the very structure of the cell itself would be more useful. After all, if he could escape through a wall to the outside-- assuming there _was_ an outside that was within easy reach or run of the cell –then maybe he could transport himself once he was away from the influence of the containment wards.

His magic reserves would have to be rebuilt before he could do that, however, and that would take some time and rest before that could happen. With that in mind, Avan settled back into a meditation pose, resting his wrists loosely on his crossed legs. At least the wards weren't blocking the ambient magic that he would need to use to restore his reserves. It took quite some time before he was satisfied with how much magic he'd drawn in, and by that time, he'd been there for several hours.

Avan could still feel the faint warmth of the Judgment bond he shared with Rodney, which gave him some hope. It meant Rodney was alive at the very least, which was a good sign. Not that he was too worried about Rodney dying any time soon, but it would also give Rodney a small indication that he was alive as well, assuming he remembered to check it. Avan opened his eyes and then summoned a small ball of light. Well, at least _that_ worked.

The light showed that the cell was a plain concrete box, outfitted with a toilet and sink in one corner. A solid-looking door was across from the bunk Avan sat on, with no handle on the inward side. A small hatch was set right around eye level in the door. That was the only potential weak spot in the door Avan could see. There was a tiny grate high above the bunk that let in fresh air. A good sign, but the questions remained as to whether or not it led outside or if it was being piped in from somewhere further away. Still, it would serve as a useful starting point.

Avan started inspecting the walls for weak points, using his magic to gently probe the structure of the concrete. It seemed rather thick in all directions, which did not bode well for his escape via explosive maintenance. He hummed to himself as he thought. Maybe it would be better to wait until his captors came to either feed him or take him out of his cell. That might be a more opportune time to escape, and he wouldn't have to worry about expending as much magic than if he tried to blow his way through the walls.

With that in mind, Avan let his light dim before going out entirely as he sank back down onto the bunk. He needed to regroup and plan. It was better to go into this with an idea of what he wanted to do. He just hoped that he'd be able to get out of this whole thing intact. As time went on and nothing happened, Avan wondered what was going on in Atlantis. Had Rodney recovered from whatever had been done with him? Was Radek still looking for him? Surely his sudden disappearance had been noticed by then, especially since Radek had been right behind him.

Avan's thoughts were broken when the small hatch in the door slid open, letting a shaft of light pour into the dark room. It was blocked momentarily when someone peered through the hatch before it disappeared entirely as the hatch slid shut again. The door creaked open, letting more light flood the cell. Avan sat up, watching as two heavily armed men came in and then took up position on either side of the door. A third man came in after them, dressed in a plain black suit. He had dark thinning hair that made him look older than he likely was, and carried some weight around his middle, but not enough to be considered obese.

“Who're you?” Avan demanded. “Come to drag me off to the Wraith like a coward?”

“My name is Colonel Frank Simmons,” the other man said, “and you'll get to the Wraith... eventually. For now, I've got a lot of questions I want answered, and you're just the man to do it.”

“I'm assuming I don't have much choice?” Avan asked dryly. Simmons just smiled thinly.

“What do you think?” he asked as he gestured for a chair to be brought in for him. One of the guards went to get a chair, returning shortly afterwards with a folding chair that he set up for Simmons before returning to his post near the door. Simmons took a seat, idly unbuttoning his suit jacket as he sat down.

“I think you're going to listen to what I've got to say, answer my questions, and then maybe we can see about what's going to happen to you,” he said.

“And if I don't want to play your little game?”

“Then it's over to the Wraith you go. Your choice, Doctor Kavanagh. Your choice,” Simmons told him. “So, shall we begin?”

“I'd rather go home, but sure, why the hell not?” Avan replied. He flicked a hand sharply at Simmons. “Ask away, asshole.”

Simmons frowned at him, but Avan didn't give a flying fuck if he'd offended him or not. He wasn't the one in the wrong here, Simmons was. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared the colonel down, waiting for him to speak. Oh, he'd give him answers, but Simmons definitely wouldn't like them.

 


	4. Part the Fourth

The mood in the Wraith Hive had soured faster than milk left out in the hot summer sun as time passed and the wards surrounding Atlantis hadn't fallen. The lower ranks were beginning to talk amongst themselves about how Coldamber was getting more and more unstable. A Hive couldn't survive for long without a Queen, but it was possible that a King could rise from amongst the ranks and take her place. It was very, very rare, but it had happened before.

Well away from where the Queen was holding court in her throne room, a small group of dissenters was meeting in an unused room that had been heavily warded against eavesdropping and intruders. There was a scientist, a mage, a scout, a guard, and a commander who had not been favored by the Queen to feed from the captured phoenix. The drones were too stupid and loyal to the queen to even consider rebelling, so they had automatically been excluded from the meeting.

The commander had quickly become the little group's leader, the other four following after him naturally. They gathered around the small table in the center of the room, the commander-- who went by the name of Obsidian –sitting at its head. The guard was absent, unable to get away from his post in the throne room, which worked out alright, as he could bring the others news if needed. Obsidian observed his fellow Wraith for a short while before beginning to speak, his voice low but intense.

“It's been a month, brothers, and still no sign of the wards dropping on Atlantis or of the rogue _ignis avem_. Perhaps it is time we move our plans forward. Two more of our brothers died yesterday due to Coldamber's rage, and the few worshipers we have left are starting to doubt her as well. The less said about what she did to the Runners, the better.”

Coldamber had killed all the Runners when the news that Atlantis' shields still hadn't dropped reached her yet again not two days ago, punishing them for Ronon's disobedience. She'd activated the trackers in those who were out in the wider world, killing them due to a highly potent poison contained within the trackers. The Wraith who had been following them had brought back the corpses and placed them in an unused chamber before sealing it off permanently. If the pattern held or even increased, there wouldn't be any Wraith left in the Hive save for the Queen in less than a few months' time.

“What do you suggest we do?” the mage, Blaze, asked. “We could band together and kill her, certainly, but what about afterwards? Who will lead the Hive in her stead? You? And who will take possession of the phoenix we already have here?”

“Not to mention the fact that the humans now know where our Hive is located, even if they have yet to find any of our upper entrances,” Hunter, the scout, said with a faint scowl. “The Queen has gotten more and more reckless over the centuries.” He hesitate before adding, “Perhaps you are right, Obsidian. Perhaps it is time that Coldamber's reign ends.”

Hearing it said out loud was sobering, and the four males went quiet as they thought about what it would mean for the Hive.

“Perhaps,” Sharpwind, the scientist, began after a long stretch of silence, “we should let Coldamber cause her own downfall. We can watch and see about our own survival. It might seem cowardly, but perhaps the humans can be reasoned with. Surely they have elements of their society they wouldn't mind--”

He stopped when the voice of the final member of their group, Iceburn, rang through their minds, echoing with excitement.

_Brothers, come quickly! One of our worshipers has returned to the Hive, and he has word from the humans. They're going to bring the rogue Fire Guardian to us in ten minutes' time!_ His mental voice took on a sly note.  _I've volunteered to go get it. Would any of you like to come with me? The Queen has asked me to gather a small group to fetch it from the meeting spot,_ he informed them. The others exchanged looks before Obsidian smiled, showing off far too many sharp white teeth.

_We will meet you in the throne room in two minutes,_ he replied.  _Let our Queen know we would be **honored** to be her envoys to fetch the wretched phoenix for her._

_ Of course, _ Iceburn said.  _ I will let her know. Thank you, brothers. I will see you soon. _

His mental presence faded away to a low but familiar hum in the backs of their minds. Obsidian got to his feet, the others following his lead as they headed out of the room. It looked like their fortunes were turning for the better.

-/-

Avan couldn't believe it. Simmons had, after interrogating him for what felt like hours, shoved him in a padded wooden  _ crate _ of all things that looked like it had once been used to transport some sort of large animal, judging from the air holes around the top. He'd been locked in and the crate attached to a teleportation beacon before the beacon had been activated. One sickening teleportation later and the crate was suddenly outside. Avan shivered at the abrupt shift in temperature. Underground though it might have been, his cell had been relatively comfortable temperature-wise.

He peeked out one of the holes, trying to see where he was. It was definitely outside, and judging from the color of the rocks and dirt, possibly a desert or scrub lands. Considering that the Wraith Hive was supposed to be in the Black Hills in South Dakota, it didn't surprise him in the least. The sharp chill in the air spoke of the fact that it was late autumn and rapidly approaching winter. Avan ran his hands over his arms, shivering once more. He was only wearing the regular Sciences/Magics uniform, which consisted of a short-sleeved blue shirt and tan slacks. Atlantis was always at a comfortable seventy degrees inside its halls, and the weather wards around the city kept the outside balconies and piers from freezing over during winter or getting too wet during the rain storms that swept over the area on occasion.

There was a knock on the top of the crate, and then Simmons' voice sounded from above him. “Now then, Doctor Kavanagh, play nice. The Wraith will be here soon,” he said. “Please don't try anything dramatic.”

Avan rolled his eyes. Yeah, sure, whatever. Like he was actually going to listen to  _ that _ . He immediately tested the crate, smirking to himself when he realized that it wasn't heavily warded. Hell, it wasn't even warded against  _ fire _ . It just seemed to be impervious to physical blows and had anti-theft charms on it, but that was it. He began gathering magic to him, barely paying attention to the fact that the Wraith had arrived and were talking with Simmons. 

The flame travel would drain him dangerously low, even with the added magic he was drawing in, likely bringing him to the brink of magical exhaustion, if not pushing him over it, but he didn't care. All that mattered was getting back to Atlantis. The air inside the crate began to heat up, banishing the chill from outside completely. Soon it was stifling-- or at least, that was what it would feel like to anyone who wasn't as highly attuned to fire and heat as Avan was.

It got hot enough that, as Avan focused on the main atrium of Atlantis-- a public entrance would keep anyone from trying to spirit him away again, at least for a little while –the crate burst into flames. He released his magic, breathing a sigh of relief as he felt himself be whisked away from the crate. Time to go home.

He created quite a stir when he flame-flashed into the atrium, landing and then immediately collapsing onto the floor, his prediction coming true as his magic reserves fell to the point where he'd solidly entered magical exhaustion, which translated to physical exhaustion as well. Avan passed out just as members of the security team rushed forward to surround him, one of them calling over the radio for a medical team to come to the atrium on the double.

  
  


Simmons and Obsidian were negotiating the terms of the exchange-- Simmons wanted all the spell knowledge and lore the Wraith could provide him as payment for delivering the phoenix to them –when the crate suddenly burst into raging flames that were tinged with the eerie blue-green of magical foxfire at the edges. Obsidian let out an angry bellow and then turned to look at Simmons.

“You didn't ward it against phoenix travel?!” he snarled. Simmons held up his hands defensively.

“He wasn't supposed to be that powerful!” he replied. “We were told he couldn't fire travel because he was too weak to shift into full form.”

“Phoenixes can fire travel in whatever form they're in,” Obsidian informed him. One hand snapped out and grabbed hold of Simmons' shirt before drawing him close. “You will explain your failure to my Queen in person, human.”

Before his guards could react, Obsidian had whisked Simmons away from the meeting spot and into the Hive, throwing him down in front of Coldamber's throne. Coldamber rose, eyes narrowing in anger.

“Well? Where is it?” she demanded.

“This... this _human_ neglected to ward the container the phoenix was confined in against fire travel,” Obsidian reported in disgust. “It escaped, likely back to Atlantis, and now they will know we have allies amongst their ranks, if they don't already.”

Coldamber snarled as Simmons slowly got to his feet. “You failed me and you failed your people,” she told him before returning her attention to Obsidian. “Take him to one of the holding cells. He will not get the privilege of a quick and easy death.”

“Gladly, my Queen,” Obsidian replied before hauling Simmons away. The rest of the envoys returned ten or so minutes later, having dealt with Simmons' guards and then disposed of the withered husks of the two men in a suitable place. Time, animals, and the elements would do the job of disposal for them.

Obsidian dragged Simmons to a cell, tossing him inside before shutting the door behind him. Obsidian returned to the throne room and then went to one knee in front of Coldamber.

“What shall we do now, my Queen?”

Coldamber stopped in her pacing, a mad gleam in her eyes.

“Now? Now we shall prepare for war!”

-/-

John was angry. No, scratch that. He'd gone far past the point of anger and sailed out to the far side, where all that existed was the clear and sharp wrath of a man with a dragon's soul. He normally kept a close handle on his draconic half, but this... this _treachery_ from his people against two of their own saw that control seriously fraying. His scales had gone from nearly transparent and unseen along the line of his jaw and throat to a stark jet black, and his eyes, normally a mercurial hazel, had shifted as well, the irises becoming a vibrant acid green and his pupils going slit like a cat's in bright light at all times.

He'd already given the go ahead to Major Lorne and the security team to use the heaviest sedation darts and calming potions on him if necessary, as sedation and sleep spells tended to slide right off him when his dragon was running so close under his skin. Lorne had become his constant shadow throughout the day, occasionally switching out with Ronon, Bates, or Teyla as needed. All were armed with stun dart guns at all times just in case.

He stood out on the east pier, watching General O'Neill's helicopter approach on a descent angle that would see the craft landing in the center of the long pier. John waited for the helicopter to come to a complete stop and for the rotors to power down before striding forward, Ronon following after him. The general stepped down out of the helicopter, saying his goodbyes to the pilot before approaching John and Ronon. O'Neill barely broke his stride when he saw the state John was in, merely adjusting the set of his shoulders as he reached John.

“It's that bad?” he asked, gesturing for John to accompany him into the city proper with his free hand; the other held a thick manila folder stamped with 'Top Secret' on the outside.

John let out a sharp laugh. “Sir, it's _beyond_ bad,” he said honestly. “I've had to put the entire Council and Doctor Weir on house arrest in their quarters for their own safety. The whole city is up in arms about what they did.” He ran a hand over his hair, ruffling it even more than usual. “I doubt I'd be this bad if I wasn't doing my damnedest to court Rodney-- Doctor McKay –as my mate. I'd only just made the initial overture a few days before everything happened.”

O'Neill winced as they reached the transporter and stepped inside, Ronon joining them after a beat. John hit the icon for the exit nearest the infirmary, leading the way into Doctor Beckett's domain. Carson was checking on Avan as they came in; the phoenix had been put into the bed next to Rodney, who was looking far more alert and cognizant than he had when he'd first been admitted to the infirmary the prior day. Rodney had a tablet propped up in his lap and was using a wireless keyboard to type on it.

He looked up when Carson greeted the visitors, letting his hands go still on the keyboard. “General O'Neill. I would say I'm surprised to see you, but unfortunately I don't have that pleasure.”

O'Neill nodded. “How are you doing, McKay? I heard they did a real number on you.”

Rodney snorted softly. “That's putting it lightly,” he replied. “Still, I'm better off than Kavanagh is right now.” He looked over at the nearly still form of his friend, worry pulling his mouth tightly downwards as he watched him breathe shallowly in and out. “He pretty much drained all of his magic getting out of there.”

“Yes, and I'm not sure when he'll wake,” Carson said with a shake of his head. “Magical exhaustion hits everyone in different ways, and given his... unique nature, the best I can do is feed him magic regeneration potions and hope for the best.”

“I'm up to date on everything, Doc,” O'Neill said. “I know what he is, but don't worry, I'm not going to have him carted off for experimentation or anything.”

“I wouldn't expect it of you, but given what's happened with Weir and the Council, I wouldn't put it past someone to demand you be seen doing something.”

“Good thing that's not my style, then,” O'Neill replied cheerily. “As for Weir and the Council, that's a whole other kettle of fish to fry. I'll start with Weir and then work my way through the rest. Might as well start at the top and see what falls out when the tree's shaken.”

“I can get Lorne to set up a conference room set up for you,” John offered. “There should be a free one somewhere you can use.”

“Great. Maybe some snacks and coffee as well? I haven't eaten anything since breakfast, and Danny will be on my ass if I don't eat _something_ for lunch.”

“Sure thing,” John assured him. He looked at Rodney. “You're looking better.”

“And you're looking particularly draconic, if we're going to be stating the obvious,” Rodney replied with a faint slur. He scrubbed at his face with the hand that didn't have an IV in it and then shot Carson a sour look. “You gave me a pain potion with passion flower in it, didn't you?”

“You're not allergic to it and you need to sleep,” Carson said unashamedly as he plucked the tablet and keyboard off of Rodney's lap. “It'll help you heal and you know it.”

Rodney let out an annoyed huff as he settled back against his pillows. “If you say so, you fanged witch doctor.”

“Master healer, thank you very much, and while I _am_ a vampire, there's no need to insult me,” Carson replied with a fondly exasperated roll of his eyes. “Go to sleep, Rodney.”

“Wake me up if something changes with him?” Rodney requested with a jaw-cracking yawn, glancing over at Avan once more before letting his eyes flutter shut.

“Of course,” Carson promised. He waited until Rodney had dozed off before looking back at the others. “No offense, gentlemen, but my patients need to rest and heal, and while I'm sure they appreciate you visiting, I'll need to shoo you out now.”

“No need to worry,” O'Neill said, waving off the implied apology. “Sheppard, you said something about a conference room?”

“Yes, sir,” John replied, leading the way out of the infirmary. It wasn't long before the conference room was set up for O'Neill, including the requested coffee and snacks. The general stopped John before he went to go fetch Elizabeth from her quarters.

“Hey. Go take a fly around outside,” O'Neill told him. “Work your anger out in a healthy way. I know going for runs in wolf form help me when my head's in a bad place. Don't worry. McKay will be back up on his feet and annoying the hell out of you again soon enough.”

John nodded, recognizing a not so subtly couched order when he heard one. Once Elizabeth had been delivered to the conference room safe and sound, John made his way to the nearest pier. It wasn't long before he'd shifted into full dragon form and was flying around the city, the rush of the cool air around him helping to soothe some of his anger. Oh, it was still there, but he trusted O'Neill to get to the bottom of things and then point him in the right direction for true retribution.

He bared his teeth in the closest approximation of a deadly grin a dragon could get, which, given the multitude of shiny and sharp teeth contained within his mouth, was far more deadly than any human would get. Whoever was in charge of hurting his mate and kidnapping the closest thing Rodney had to family on Atlantis was going to learn just how much of a bad idea getting on the wrong side of a dragon really was.

-/-

Jack sat back in his chair, having quickly polished off a hastily made turkey sandwich while waiting for Sheppard to return with Weir. He pushed the plate aside once he was done, brushing any stray crumbs off his uniform before picking up his coffee, taking a sip, and then opening the folder he'd brought with him. He extracted a smaller folder from within, closed the first one, and then set the second folder in front of him while the other got moved to his opposite side. The smaller folder held Weir's dossier, along with all the commendations and demerits she'd earned over the course of her tenure as Atlantis' civilian lead. Sadly, the latter were starting to outweigh the former, and rumors of Weir's fervent drive to understand just exactly how the Ancients had managed to Ascend to another plane of existence had reached Jack long before this mess had occurred.

It didn't bode well for the former diplomat, as no one wanted a leader with a possible death wish and the low level of moral fiber it took to order the interrogation of one of her own people and the abduction of another to be given to an enemy. Sure, Kavanagh wasn't exactly Mr. Rogers, but he didn't deserve being sold out to the Wraith of all beings. Weir had a lot to answer for, that was for sure.

Jack took another sip of his coffee as Sheppard brought Weir into the conference room. He swallowed his mouthful, gave Sheppard a terse nod of thanks, and then gestured for Weir to take a seat across from him. She did so, glancing shortly back at the now-closed door before focusing on Jack. He pressed a set of runes on the table, activating the privacy protocols around the piece of furniture.

“Doctor Weir,” Jack began abruptly, “what the _hell_ were you thinking?”

Weir stared at him, strongly caught off-guard by his question. She took a minute to regain some of her composure before answering. “Can you clarify that question for me, General?”

“I don't know, I figured that was pretty damn clear, but sure, why not?” Jack leaned forward, his annoyance showing in his tense posture. “Why the hell did you decide to betray two of the people you're supposed to be leading, interrogating one to the point of both mental and physical exhaustion and handing the other to beings that would love to snack on him like a never ending all-you-can-eat buffet? You violated the oaths and contract you took and signed when you took this position, the city's charter, and let's not even _start_ on all the laws, both domestic and international, that you've broken. I'm surprised Sheppard only put you on house arrest! Any other city or person and you'd have been thrown into a cell to await your trial before the courts. That'll probably still happen, and considering Atlantis is officially designated as international territory _and_ you acted against the citizens of _two_ different countries, gods only know what kind of court that'll be in front of; I sure as hell don't. So, please, feel free to tell me why you decided to so thoroughly violate that supposedly unshakable code of ethics you once were so proud to brag about.”

“It was the only way to keep the city safe!” Weir insisted. “The Wraith were the reason that the Ancients Ascended. If the Ancients feared them, then why shouldn't we? I was protecting the rest of the city. Sacrificing one creature who, in all honestly, likely lied to get the education that got him here in the first place or rode in on Doctor McKay's coattails, was better than sacrificing everyone in the city. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. As for Doctor McKay, he wouldn't give the information up without other means, and we didn't torture him. That was explicitly understood and ensured.”

“No, you just tossed one of the best minds in the entire Atlantis program into a blender and potentially made us the enemies of both the Wraith and one of the few beings they actively fear,” Jack snapped. “And Weir, watch what you say. The city is full of those with creature blood, me included. So-called 'pure' humans are vastly outnumbered, and the city responds better to creature-kin or those with magic. Why do you think she's been opening up so much to McKay and Sheppard? She hated Sumner because he didn't respect her, and that was a good portion of why he was... encouraged to leave.”

Weir let out a sharp huff of air. “Why do you insist on speaking about the city like it's alive? It's just a piece of techno-magical architecture left behind by the Ancients. It's not like it has a _soul_.”

Jack shook his head, sitting back in his chair. He couldn't let Weir get under his skin. “You and I see the world in a _very_ different way, Doctor,” he said heavily. “There are less than a hundred Wraith, and we've got battle mages, strong wards, and a good defensive position here, not to mention plenty of backup from the various bases and local law enforcement in a two hundred-square mile area. They can get here within a half hour at their slowest, especially with teleportation magics, so you can't say that you've been left defenseless here.”

“I agree that we see the world differently, General, but I stand by my decision. Of course, it's a moot point now that the Wraith don't have what we promised them,” Weir said.

“No, what _you_ promised them,” Jack corrected. “Out of curiosity, just how did you contact them anyways?”

Weir stayed quiet, which made Jack sigh in exasperation. “We already know you contacted someone in the NID who then contacted the Wraith,” he said. “We _will_ find out who that is, don't worry. They're not going to get out of this squeaky clean. That's assuming the Wraith haven't already taken care of that problem on their end.” He smiled grimly. “I wouldn't want to be in their shoes right now, that's for sure.”

Weir went pale at that, something that made Jack more than a little satisfied. He knew it wasn't very big of him, but he never claimed to be perfect. He took a drink of his coffee, hiding his distaste at the fact that it was now lukewarm. He didn't want to show any sort of weakness to Weir, even if it was something so minor.

“I wouldn't want to be in yours, for that matter, either,” he continued on, setting down his mug sharply on the table. “You're not going to stay at Atlantis' civilian lead, that's for sure. Hell, the entire Council is going to be disbanded and new people appointed to it. And no, before you ask, you won't be one of those new appointees. You'll be lucky to find a job teaching political science as it is. You pissed off a lot of people with what you've done, and you're not going to be allowed to pass the buck off onto the others.”

“You can't do that!” Weir protested, shoving up to her feet and pushing the chair back with a screech of metal against metal as the chair legs made protesting contact with the floor. “You have no right to just disband the Council like that!”

“Actually, I do,” Jack said calmly, waving off a Marine who had stepped forward from her post in the corner. He could move and react far faster than Weir ever could, so he wasn't too worried about her attacking him. “It's written in the city charter and the Atlantis Concord that the Council can be disbanded at any time if sufficient cause is given, and I'd say this counts as that.”

Weir crossed her arms over her chest with a huff, reminding Jack of Charlie around age five or so. She was certainly acting enough like a small child to warrant the comparison. Jack doubted that the rest of the Council would act any better. He stayed in his chair, watching her as she started to pace and then mutter to herself, obviously trying to figure out a way to keep her position. After about a minute or so of watching that, Jack cleared his throat.

“When you're done, Doctor Weir, I'd appreciate it if you'd sit back down,” he drawled once he'd gotten her attention. “We have a lot to go over, and I'd rather not be here all day, if it's the same to you.”

Weir sat down in her chair once more, staring pointedly at Jack. He shook his head and then opened her file, flipping through it until he found what he was looking for and extracted it. Jack laid the two sheets of paper in front of Weir and then added a pen on top. “These are the official declarations of recognition that you are no longer the civilian lead of Atlantis and that you broke the terms of your contract, your oaths to the city, and the Atlantis Concord. You'll need to sign them before anything else.”

“And if I want a lawyer?”

“You'll get one after you sign,” Jack said. “They're not binding you to anything beyond what I've already told you.”

“Then you won't mind if I read them,” Weir said, picking up the top piece of paper.

“By all means, go ahead,” Jack replied. “I'll wait.”

He leaned back in his chair as he watched her read over the two double-sided pieces of paper before she picked up the pen and then reluctantly signed the two declarations in the correct places. Jack looked them over before signing them as well and then sliding the forms back into the file. He capped the pen and then put it back in his jacket.

“As you've requested a lawyer, one will be assigned to you if you don't already have one on retainer,” Jack informed her. He gestured for the Marine to come over. “Sergeant Mehra here will escort you back to your quarters. She'll supervise your packing and assist you if, and only if, it's necessary. You'll be transported off the city once the packing is done. The Sergeant will ensure that you don't bring any sensitive information with you. As of right now, your security clearance for all Ancient databases and cities has been revoked and your employment here terminated permanently. You are not allowed back on Atlantis or on Lemuria. You will be kept in a secure facility until such a time as a date for your trial is set or a decision is reached via other means, which you will be informed about in a timely manner. You will not be allowed to contact anyone save for your lawyer in regards to this. All of this was laid out in the contract and security agreements you signed when you first took your position here, so you can't say you weren't informed of the consequences of any potential acts of ill repute, and trust me, what you did is definitely considered that, if not more.”

Sergeant Mehra escorted Weir out of the conference room, dutifully ignoring the other woman's expression of stony rage. Jack only slumped back in his chair once the door was closed, scrubbing his hands over his face. That had sucked, and he had eight more people to take care of. He eyed his now-cold coffee and made a face. He was _definitely_ going to need more of the good and fresh stuff to get through everything.

-/-

Avan opened his eyes and found himself floating mid-air. As he still found a floating cushion of magic more comfortable than an actual chair from time to time, he wasn't particularly surprised. What was surprising were his surroundings. As far as he could see in every direction, a thick blanket of gray ash covered the ground beneath him. Occasionally the ash had formed larger deposits where it had drifted along with the faint breeze that created small eddies as it blew past. Avan glided over the surface of the ash, unsure of whether his form was human, phoenix, or something in between. This place seemed familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place how, exactly.

A glint of light at the center of the giant bowl-shaped valley he was in caught his attention, so Avan made his way over, curious to see what it was. A small fire burned weakly there, surrounded by a foot or so of clear ground in all directions. It looked to have been a much bigger and vibrant fire at one time, but had died down considerably, judging from the amount of ash and embers under the flames. A small stack of wood and kindling sat nearby, seeming to await their addition to the flames.

Avan knelt down next to the fire, carefully clearing the ash and dead wood from the fire. Flames had never bothered him; why would they since he'd been born of flame and magic? He finished adding enough wood to nourish the fire for a good amount of time and then looked around, trying to figure out what to do next. A second flame a few feet away caught his attention; this one was a light green hue compared to his own pale blue. That one looked far worse that the first. It was barely brighter than a candle, sputtering and flickering on the small piece of wood it rested on. Avan fetched some kindling from the wood pile and transferred the flame to it, shielding it with his hand as he walked back to the other fire

The warmth of the small flame felt achingly familiar to him, and as he looked into its shivering depths, Avan realized why. A wounded noise left him as he cradled the kindling in his palms. He knew that flame just as intimately as he knew his own. It was a bit of Din's heart-flame, which-- Avan glanced over at the fire he'd been building up earlier –made that his. He knelt down beside the fire, carefully tucking Din's heart-flame deep in the hottest part. A shiver ran through his body as he watched it merge with his, his magic surging in a way he hadn't felt in centuries. Tears ran down Avan's face as he sat back and watched the two flames merge and dance together, both looking a little stronger than they had apart.

He kept feeding the flames wood and kindling over time, the pile never seeming to diminish no matter how many times he took from it. The fire had become a blazing bonfire by the time the pile finally ran out, its warmth a welcome change from the chill that had been pervasive throughout the whole valley. Avan yawned widely and then laid down next to the fire, his eyes fixed on the small piece of his mate's flames until he couldn't hold them open any longer. He let his eyes fall shut, a faintly content smile on his face.

  
  


Avan woke with that smile still curving his lips. His eyes felt heavy, as did his limbs. He slowly cracked open his eyes, grimacing at how stiff he was. A soft grunt left him, alerting those nearby that he was awake. There was a rustle of cloth nearby and then Rodney's voice was calling out.

“Carson! Carson, get out here! He's awake!”

“Fuck, McKay, don't yell,” Avan groaned, opening his eyes fully before turning his head in the direction of Rodney's voice. “My head hurts enough as it is.”

Rodney, who had been sitting on a nearby chair, set aside his tablet and leaned forward. “You've been out for almost four days,” he said, lowering his voice to a more tolerable level. “Carson's been pumping you full of magic restoration and healing potions ever since you appeared in the middle of the atrium. You freaked out a lot of people, you know. Just what the hell happened?”

“I was trying to figure out what had happened to you, and since you'd been found near the conference rooms by Chuck, it seemed like the best place to start. I got to the Council chamber and was attacked by a guy in a suit. No idea who he was; I'd never seen him before,” Avan said as Carson came hurrying over. “He trapped me in a runic array on the floor and then transported me out of Atlantis somehow. I don't know how, though my best guess is that it had to do with the runic array he'd laid out. I got sent to a warded cell... somewhere. No idea where. Eventually, a guy named Colonel Simmons came by to say hello. He was more than a little annoying. Kept asking far too many questions. I didn't answer a lot of them, which pissed him off pretty badly.”

He shrugged, stopping when Carson placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Don't move too much, Peter lad,” the healer warned. “You'll likely be sore for a while. I won't be releasing you today, that's for sure. You still need to heal back up to normal.”

“You can call me Avan, Carson, it's okay,” Avan assured him. He gave him a faintly bemused smile. “And I'm pretty sure I'm older than you. Just saying.”

“Maybe so, but you don't look it,” Carson said as he checked him over, “so I apologize in advance if I do it again. As for your name, it'll take me some time to get used to it. Rodney's been telling me a few stories about your time in college together.”

“Yes, well, Weir tried to insinuate you didn't come by your degree properly,” Rodney said with a faint sniff. “I wasn't about to let her spread those lies, especially when you did.”

“Out of curiosity, how _did_ you manage that?” Carson asked, intrigued. “You need proper identification to go to college.”

“That's a good question,” Avan said. “Neither of us are quite sure. My theory is that magic provided the documentation needed. After I got up the next day, I found a bachelor's degree, driver's license, birth certificate, and social security card on my bedside table with the name Rodney had chosen for me on them. I was already signed up for my master's degree courses for the next semester when we checked with the registrar's office. No one questioned the fact that Rodney suddenly had a new roommate. It was as if I'd always been there.”

Carson looked surprised. “And has that happened before to you?”

“No, but it may have been because the Judgment Rodney summoned me for was going to be a long way off and the gods or magic itself knew that I would need the proof of education to be at Rodney's side unquestioned,” Avan mused. “Something tells me that the Wraith have something to do with the end of that Judgment.”

“Does that mean you won't be staying once it's over with?” Rodney asked, his voice surprisingly small and unsure. Avan looked at him thoughtfully.

“I think it'll depend on what ultimately happens with the Wraith, but I don't have to stay in the pocket realm you summoned me from if I don't want to,” Avan said. “Din and I used to travel the world for years on end. Atlantis... If he's truly alive- and I'm starting to think he is -then I think he'd like it here. The ritual to summon a phoenix is all but lost to the ages, and I sure as hell am not going to tell anyone how to do it. Look at how much trouble that caused with the Wraith. I like the city. The work here actually feels valuable and worthwhile.”

“Well, if Din _is_ alive, then I'm sure you two will always be welcome here,” Rodney said. “Besides, I've heard you talk so much about him over the years that I'd want to get to know him in person if I had the chance.”

Avan smiled at that. “Thanks.” He sighed. “Any word on the Wraith?”

“Nothing yet,” Rodney replied, shaking his head. “It worries me, to be honest. The fact that they've been so quiet after losing something they wanted so badly does not bode well for anyone involved.”

“Worrying about it right now likely won't help matters much,” Carson advised. He patted Avan on the shoulder before stepping back. “I want you to get as much rest as you can. I know you just woke up, but your body and magic are still recovering, phoenix or not. I won't give you any more magic replenishing potions for now, but I'm going to keep an eye on you for at least the next twenty-four hours.” He raised a hand to ward off any complaints; Avan wasn't about to say anything, but Rodney looked like he wanted to say something. “No, don't even try, Rodney. He won't be fit for anything for at least that long, if not longer. I won't know until those twenty-four hours are up. He needs to rest and recuperate, not work and worry about other things.”

“But--”

“Rodney, it's okay,” Avan assured him. “I'll be fine, seriously. Like Carson says, I need to rest and rebuild my strength. What I did was pretty damn dangerous, to say the least, so don't complain. At least I'm alive.”

Rodney opened his mouth, closed it when he saw the firm look on Carson's face, and then sunk down in his chair. “Fine. I won't say anything-- for now.”

Avan couldn't help but laugh a little at that, which unfortunately made his head ache again. He stopped laughing as soon as he could, leaning back against his pillows. He was just glad to be safe and sound and home again. Without even realizing it, he laid his free hand loosely over his heart, swearing he could nearly feel the sweet heat of the mate bond behind his breastbone once more.

 


	5. Part the Fifth

Avan was released from the infirmary after a day and a half once he'd woken up, with the stern admonition from Carson to get plenty of rest, food, and meditation in to further rebuild his magical reserves. He was just glad to get back to his normal routine, having been out of it for almost a week. He was surprised at the various reactions he got from people now that it was more well-known what he was. Gossip spread quickly in Atlantis, as while the city itself was very large, there were maybe only about two thousand people inhabiting it, since a lot of the city remained unexplored or was too dangerous to venture into, even after almost a hundred and seventy years of it being continually occupied. Most of the reactions he got were curious or neutral, but there were some who were fearful or angry about his continued presence on the city. He had even heard some saying that Weir had had the right idea in what she'd done, and those saying it hadn't been particularly subtle about it, either.

Avan did his best to ignore them, focusing on fully regaining his health as well as doing his work, but it was starting to get harder as time went on. The whispers that started up every time he entered the dining hall and other larger public areas began to wear on him, getting to the point that, after a few days, Avan started to find more secluded areas to eat and relax in. He found a quiet and unobtrusive alcove above the atrium that he could easily shield with privacy wards and mild distraction charms to make people ignore it and his presence there if they happened to look upwards. Atlantis herself seemed to be helping him, bolstering his spells with her own magics to keep away those who would seek to bother him unduly.

He was tucked away in his alcove, doing a little bit of meditation in peace and quiet after a long day of work, when the alert ward chimed softly in the back of his mind, letting him know someone was approaching that Atlantis approved of knowing he was there. With a soft sigh, Avan opened his eyes and turned his attention to his left, as the way to his right was blocked by a wall. To his surprise, it was Teyla who was coming to see him.

Avan rather liked her. She had always been kind to him, and had been amongst those who had been disgusted by what Weir had done. She held two mugs in her hands, a small smile on her face as she approached.

“May I join you?” she asked, stopping at a respectful difference from him. Avan patted the floor near him, which he'd lined with a thin blanket-covered yoga mat to provide some padding as he meditated.

“Feel free,” he replied. “I was just doing some meditation.” He smiled wryly. “Doctor's orders. Carson's still not entirely happy with my magic levels.”

Teyla nodded as she carefully sat down and then held out one of the mugs for him. “Here. It's an old family recipe to help with just that. Rodney told me you have started to come here, so I figured I might bring you some tea and sit with you. if that is alright.”

Avan took the offered mug, glad for the warmth it provided his hands. The tea contained within smelled pleasantly spicy, reminding him somewhat of chai, though there was a distinctly flowery undertone that put Avan in mind of hibiscus flowers. He took a cautious sip, a pleased hum leaving him as the rich and complex flavors rolled across his tongue. It was surprisingly delicious, and he found himself liking it greatly.

“This is wonderful,” he told Teyla, earning a smile from her, “and I'd be happy to have you sit with me. The constant whispers are starting to get to me, so pleasant company is more than welcome.”

“I promise I won't ask too many questions,” Teyla said before taking a sip of her own tea. Avan regarded her with a shrewd look.

“That doesn't mean you won't ask _any_ ,” he pointed out. Teyla merely shrugged.

“It is my job,” she replied. “Being security chief comes with a heavy burden. It's eased by the work of others, but not entirely. However, as I said, I won't ask too many questions.”

Avan looked out over the atrium contemplatively, falling silent for a several minutes. Teyla let him, content in waiting for him to speak as they drank their tea together. Eventually, Avan broke the silence, though he didn't look at her.

“What do you want to know?” he asked quietly. “I can't promise I'll be able to answer all your questions, though, because there are some things even I don't know.”

Teyla hummed, gently tapping her fingers against her mug as she thought. “Tell me about your mate?”

Avan turned his head sharply to look at her, surprise writ broad across his face. “You want to know about Din? But he's not a security risk. Why would you want to know about him?”

“Because he is important to you,” Teyla said simply. “I want to know more about him, which will in turn tell me more about you. How did you two meet?”

Avan laughed softly, looking down at his half-drunk tea. “On our birthday,” he replied, a fond smile softening his face and making him look particularly young. “Phoenixes are born in pairs. Since we're born of magic, wind, and flames in one of the elemental celestial planes, there's no concept of incest or anything like that amongst us. We're simply born fully formed on the same day as our eternal mates, and our heart-flames are joined together forever more after that. It's why my magical abilities are so diminished from what they were when Din was around me and our mate bond fully realized. Our magics fed off of one other, strengthening and bolstering each other at the same time. Losing him... It was one of the worst things that has ever happened to me. The mate bond was-- I don't know. Not severed, exactly, but blocked somehow, I guess, since I still have a little of his heart-flame deep within mine. It's what gives me hope that he's still alive, beyond the fact that the Wraith have a phoenix in their possession. A lot of phoenixes have gone missing over the centuries. There used to be at least two hundred of us, if not more. Phoenixes used to come into being every hundred years, but that hasn't happened since Din... disappeared. I don't know why; perhaps it's magic's way of making sure the Wraith don't summon any more of us.”

He drank some more of his tea, a contemplative look on his face. “I don't suppose I'll ever truly know. The gods aren't exactly the most chatty of beings, after all.”

Teyla laughed a little at that. “Very true,” she agreed. “Your mate-- Din? --he sounds like he was a wonderful person.”

“He was,” Avan said fondly. “He was very kind and charming but could throw a mean punch if needed. He loved the ocean and the mountains equally, and had a fondness for any kind of tea, the stronger the better. We once traveled all the way to what's now China for a particular tea grown on a mountainside near this tiny village. I think there were maybe a hundred people in total there at the time. He charmed the leader there into giving us almost a full pound of the tea blend. We paid for it, of course, providing some medical help amongst other things, but it was likely far more valuable than what we got it for.”

He leaned back against the wall behind him, a smile curving his lips once more. “I wonder if that village is still there. Probably not, but it'd be amazing if it was.”

Avan lapsed back into silence, contentment filling him as he reflected on his past adventures with Din. He usually tried to avoid thinking about the past, especially given how painful it was for him, but good memories like that one were worth thinking about from time to time. As time went on, he told Teyla more and more stories about his time with Din, until his his voice got hoarse and it was well and truly dark outside the stained glass of the atrium's windows.

The tea was long gone by the time a call came over the radio for Teyla, who said her goodbyes to Avan, taking the spare mug with her. Avan watched her go, feeling a little better after all the talking he'd done. He settled back into his mediation once he was fully alone again, testing his magic levels. The tea had truly done what Teyla had promised, as his magic was almost back up to the level it had been prior to his kidnapping.

It had taken a little testing to figure out how to see his heart-flame again, but once he'd figured it out, Avan had started to check it every time he meditated. It was a good way to visually figure out how his progress was doing, not to mention it let him see how much stronger the tiny piece of Din's heart-flame was doing as well. Every time he looked it seemed to be doing better, something that made Avan very happy indeed.

As he grew stronger, the amount of ash blanketing the ground receded, giving way to new and clean soil and stone. It was comforting to know that he was truly healing, perhaps for the first time in centuries. Avan shook himself out of his meditative state, a yawn escaping him as he got to his feet. He would leave the alcove as it was, knowing that no one but him would be allowed anywhere near it if he wasn't there.

Avan went to his quarters, getting ready for bed before settling in for the night. His dreams that night were dark and gloomy, much like the weather outside. A storm had come swiftly in while he and Teyla had been talking, the rain and wind lashing the windows outside even with the weather wards. Avan's dreams were full of faceless terrors that left his sleep restless and unfulfilling.

He woke the next morning feeling more tired than he had when he'd initially gone to bed; the rain that was still pouring down outside didn't exactly help matters either. From the looks of the others when he got to the dining hall, he wasn't the only one who'd had a restless night. Short tempers and frayed nerves seemed the order of the day, making Avan wonder just how they were supposed to get anything done. Thankfully, it was a Saturday, and while Atlantis wasn't the most normal of cities, it still did have a five day work week set in place, though not everyone (particularly Rodney) followed that schedule.

As it was, Avan had no plans for that day save for rest and relaxation, if possible. Maybe catching up on a good book or watching some mindless television; both sounded equally desirable. Hell, he could probably get away with doing both if he wanted to do so. As he contemplated what he wanted to do first, Avan took a seat across from Rodney once he'd gotten his food. Rodney was eating his breakfast with one hand and scribbling out calculations on a piece of paper with the other.

“What're you working on?” Avan asked as he settled in, placing his coffee within easy reach and then setting a fresh cup in front of Rodney. If he knew his friend like he thought he did, Rodney would have ignored his first cup of coffee to the point where it had gotten cold and unpalatable.

“Some modifications to Miko's calculations on recharging the ZedPM,” Rodney replied, absently picking up the cup of coffee and taking a sip. He blinked and then looked down at the cup, a surprised expression on his face. “Huh. This is hot.”

“I know,” Avan said, amused. “I just got it for you. I figured you'd be wanting a fresh cup right about now.”

“Thanks.” Rodney took another drink before setting the cup down. “Miko's on to something, but I'm not sure what. If I'm doing the math right, it'd take a very large magical event to be able to recharge even one of the empty ZedPMs that we have laying around, let alone all of them. I'm sure the Ancients had some way of doing it easily, but fuck if I know what that was. The main problem is that there's still so much of the city that we haven't explored that it's entirely possible that the answer we're looking for is just sitting in a room somewhere inaccessible or just not clearly labeled.”

“The Ancients weren't exactly ones for labeling things properly,” Avan pointed out between bites, “if at all. Remember the nanites?”

“I thought we swore never to talk about those damn things ever again,” Rodney said, gesturing pointedly at Avan with his fork. “I'm just glad we destroyed them before they caused any major chaos.”

“Given how much Atlantis loves you, it doesn't surprise me how many warnings she gave you about them and how easily she allowed you to dispose of them,” Avan mused. Rodney shrugged at that.

“Hey, I wasn't about to turn down help from the city herself,” he said. “Just because others don't think the city is at the very least aware of what happens in her halls on a day-to-day basis doesn't mean I think the same way, not when there's empirical proof of it happening. Remember when Halling broke his leg and no one was there to help him? I know for a fact that Carson got the call from the city herself in regards to it. There's no way Halling could've done it since he said himself that he wasn't anywhere near a radio or cell phone.”

“Right. And there's the time Jinto and some of the other kids got lost and were guided back to the occupied parts of the city by that light globe,” Avan added. “I guess some people just refuse to accept the evidence that's right in front of their faces. You'd think they'd be willing to accept the possibility at the very least since we're literally living in one of the most magical places on the planet.”

Rodney nodded as he took a bite of his eggs. It was borderline stupid not to entertain the idea, but then again, stupidity couldn't always be shaken loose from people's heads in the face of strong evidence, especially not if it was heavily ingrained. He could argue all day that the sky was blue, and if someone decided that it was actually a lovely shade of chartreuse, then no amount of scientific evidence could set the record straight for some people.

Their conversation shifted to other topics as the meal went on, with Rodney abandoning his half-formed equations and formulae, putting the paper he'd been working on safely aside so he could work on it later. Eventually they were joined by several other mages and scientists, all of whom had shadows under their eyes from poor sleep, not to mention their caffeinated beverages of choice in their possession.

“So, I'm guessing I'm not the only one who had a shitty night of sleep last night?” Avan asked dryly. Radek, who was nursing his third cup of coffee of the morning, shot a bleary glare at him.

“No. The last time I slept this poorly was after Simpson's attempt at creating an energy potion exploded all over Lab Three,” he grumbled.

“I've apologized for that way too many already,” Simpson retorted.

“You were not the one awake for three days straight!” Radek snapped at her. That surprised Avan greatly. Next to David, Radek was usually one of the more calm people in the city. It was very rare for him to be angry, let alone raise his voice to anyone.

“There's no need to yell,” Simpson said defensively. “Calm down, Zelenka. It was just an accident. I thought we were past all that.”

Looking around, Avan noticed that quite a few arguments were occurring around the dining hall, particularly amongst those who didn't usually have cause to argue with one another. That got him frowning particularly hard. Something didn't feel right about the whole situation. Could it be an outside influence causing this? He didn't know, but he was determined to find out.

“Hey, Rodney, take a look around,” he said. “What do you see that's out of place?”

“You mean besides Zelenka trying to take Simpson's head off?” Rodney asked. Avan rolled his eyes.

“Yes, besides that.”

Rodney looked around, brow furrowing when he saw what Avan had already noticed. “That's strange,” he said finally.

“You think? I'm starting to wonder if the city isn't being affected by some sort of emotional manipulation,” Avan said. “There's no way everyone just randomly slept that horribly because of the storm. We've had worse storms than this and nothing like this has ever happened before.”

“So why aren't you and I being affected?”

“Rodney, what's our main method of communication with one other usually?” Avan asked rhetorically. “We argue all the time.”

“That's just healthy debate,” Rodney said dismissively. “Besides, we're not the only ones who do that.”

“Most people don't get into vicious arguments over the magical properties of alder wood versus pine wood, Rodney,” Avan said with a sigh. “That one lasted three days and involved far too many splinters in unmentionable places and a lost eyebrow.”

“I still say pine's better for energy enhancement rituals,” Rodney said. “Still, I suppose you have a point. We _do_ tend to communicate via arguments most of the time.”

“And thus we're not as heavily affected,” Avan concluded. “Or so it seems. We haven't really been talking a lot to other people so far this morning. The problem is, I'm not sure what we could do to help the others combat this.”

“I'm not going to stand up on the table and dance and sing,” Rodney said immediately. “I was drunk that one time in college and you know it.”

“You keep telling yourself that, my friend,” Avan replied. “Seriously, though, we should probably go to the Colonel or Teyla. They'd probably have some idea of what to do.”

“Probably,” Rodney agreed. “I--”

He was cut off by an alarm suddenly ringing out, the bell-like tolling sounding particularly urgent. Rodney got to his feet, Avan following after him. It wasn't long before they were meeting up with John near the weapons control room, with the Colonel barely batting an eyelash to see Avan accompanying Rodney. John sat down in the chair, leaning back as his perception shifted to accommodate what the wards were telling him.

With barely a thought, he'd pulled up a floating display over his head so Rodney and Avan could see what was going on. What was shown there disturbed all within the room. Just barely visible through the driving rain outside were just under a hundred Wraith, with what John could only assume was their Queen standing on the dock at the lake's edge. How they'd circumvented the border wards, he didn't know, but he sure as hell was going to find out soon enough.

Perhaps it was because of their innate teleportation abilities; that was likely how the scouts had done it in the first place, and since they'd arrived within the wards and hadn't technically crossed the border line in the first place, they'd never set off the trigger to transport them to the null-magic holding cells. That was a loophole John was definitely going to get fixed as soon as he could.

He immediately raised the city's wards up to war-level, leaving the border wards as they were. The city was more important than the lake shore, after all. The ward change also affected the city itself, with the citizens being transported away from the more vulnerable areas of the city, such as the piers and other outer structures, and into more protected places. General O'Neill was transported from the meeting room he'd been conducting the interviews for the new Council in and put directly in the Chair room, as was Teyla.

“McKay? What the hell is going on?” O'Neill asked once he'd gotten his bearings back.

“The Wraith,” Rodney said grimly, pointing up at the display John had conjured up for them. “Something tells me that the storm we've been experiencing has been because of them.”

“Given that the forecast was for clear skies? I'd say so,” O'Neill said. He looked at John. “Can he hear me?”

“Loud and clear, General,” John said, though his tone was rather distracted and distant. “Your orders?”

“Protect the city at all costs,” O'Neill replied instantly. “If possible, capture one of them and send them to the null-magic cell. I want to see if we can't get them to take us into their Hive.” He looked at the display calculatingly. “If you can get the Queen, all the better, but that's not a hard and fast order. Take out as many of them as you can. And Sheppard? Don't exhaust yourself. If you need to switch out with one of us, say so. I don't want you putting yourself in the infirmary for this.”

“Yes, sir,” John said. He launched missiles at the Wraith, the city adding in the necessary spells to track and transport the Wraith if possible. The mages amongst the Wraith's ranks launched their own shields and attacks, sending spells to splash against the wards. A shiver went down John's spine as he felt the oily sensation of the Wraith's magic slide against the wards. It was an equally disconcerting and disgusting experience, to be sure.

John vaguely heard O'Neill saying that he was going to go alert the nearest military bases for backup just in case before the General left the room, Teyla following after him to go to the null-magic cells in preparation of a prisoner arriving. Rodney and Avan stayed behind, keeping an eye on John and the monitor. The Wraith were counter-attacking as much as they could as time went on, using the now near-torrential rain to help mask their movements as much as they could, but quite a few of their forces had been taken out with the initial retaliation from the city.

About fifteen minutes into the battle, one of the capturing spells hit one of the Wraith commanders and transported him away to the null-magic cell. Teyla had made sure to set all the wards to their maximum levels, which would hopefully prevent their prisoner from teleporting himself away. As they'd never had a Wraith in the cell, it wasn't possible to say with any certainty that it would work, but it never hurt to try.

The reinforcements for the city began to arrive twenty minutes into the battle, turning what had been a hard fight into something that was almost laughably easy. The Wraith were vicious fighters, but John had wiped out at least a third of them before the reinforcements had arrived, so the reinforcements didn't have as many to deal with. The Queen managed to escape back to the Hive before she could be hurt or trapped with two of her guards, leaving the rest of her troops to fend for themselves.

With the reinforcements, the battle lasted for barely ten minutes more, leaving all but a few Wraith either dead or with severe enough wounds that they wouldn't be able to regain their health in time to live for much longer. Out of the ninety or so Wraith that had arrived to wage battle, eighty had been outright killed, with the Queen, her two guards, and the captured lieutenant escaping mortal wounding. So far, the lieutenant in the cell hadn't been able to escape, which boded well for finding the Hive quickly.

Teyla had gathered several Marines to help her keep a close watch on their captive, not wanting to trust anything to chance. The Wraith prowled the cell, looking for any way to get out that he could, but was so far unsuccessful. As long as that stayed true, they hopefully wouldn't have any problems. Of course, the question arose of what to do with the Wraith afterwards, assuming he didn't do anything stupid to get himself killed. They couldn't keep him captive indefinitely, as the problem of a reliable food source arose. That presented a moral and ethical dilemma that they would eventually have to deal with as time went on.

Until he got the all-clear from O'Neill, John was going to leave the wards at near-war levels, not trusting anyone or anything at that point in time beyond his own people, and even then, not everyone. The NID could still have plans regarding the Wraith and Atlantis, and while it might seem paranoid, John would rather be safe than sorry for the near future. He rose from the chair, almost collapsing as he got to his feet. Avan and Rodney caught him, both wearing near-identical looks of worry.

“I'm fine,” John insisted, even as his knees threatened to go out on him. Rodney just shot him an unimpressed look as he and Avan started to help him out of the chair room. Thankfully, the transporter was only a couple meters away, so it was the work of a few short moments before they were guiding John into the infirmary and Carson's care. The master healer took one look at John, sighed a little, and then directed Rodney and Avan to put him in the nearest bed.

“I take it everything's sorted?” Carson asked as he cast several diagnostic charms and spells over John.

“As much as we could manage,” Rodney said. “The Queen-- their leader –got away, but we did capture one them, so hopefully we'll be able to finish the job properly and make sure this doesn't happen again.”

Avan nodded. “Agreed.” He paused. “I want to go to the Hive with whoever is leading that trip.”

“What? No!” Rodney snapped. “You can't--”

“ _Rodney_ ,” Avan replied, his voice and posture tense. “I am going and you can't stop me. I need to mete out Judgment on the Wraith Queen for what she and her Hive did to my kind and to fulfill the bond I have with you. If they were telling the truth and have a phoenix in their possession, then I need to be there to rescue them. They likely will need to undergo the fire regeneration ritual to regain their strength, which means they'll need help, since it takes a goodly amount of magic to start the flames properly, not to mention getting all the supplies stocked up.”

“Enough, both of you,” John commanded as Rodney began to retort. “We'll make any decisions once we know where the Hive is exactly and how to get in safely. For now, we need to get everything cleaned up and sorted out. We were lucky that the Wraith were out of their home territory and overwhelmed with the fast response. Sure, we got almost all of them, but who knows if that was actually all of them or if they left some of their people behind? The best bet will likely be to let us clear the Hive out first, capture the Queen, and _then_ let you do your thing, Avan. You don't have to fight her directly, right?”

Avan paused and then shook his head. “No, I just need to cast the mark of Judgment on her. Magic and the gods will do the rest; I'm just the conduit for that Judgment.”

“Then that's how we'll do it,” John decided. He looked at Rodney. “Does that work for you?”

Rodney crossed his arms over his chest and then shrugged. “I guess. I just don't want him in any more danger than he has to be, not with everything that's already happened.”

“Thank you for your concern, which I really do appreciate,” Avan said, “but this is _literally_ what I was made to do. It might have been a while since I've done it, but something tells me I'll be able to do my job this one last time.”

“Now that you've got that sorted, one of you'd best go speak with the General,” Carson advised as he inserted an IV into the back of John's hand. “No, John, don't move. They can take care of things. You need to rest and relax. You won't be leaving for at least a few hours, if not longer. Let the General deal with everything for now.”

John settled back against his pillows, clearly not happy but knowing he'd likely collapse if he tried to leave the bed now that he was in it. “Alright, alright,” he said, “but I don't like it.”

“Very few people actually like being involuntarily confined to a hospital bed, even for a few hours,” Carson said with a wry smile. “You're not the first I've had in my care, nor will you be the last.”

Rodney dragged a chair over to John's bed and sat down in it, clearly settling in for the long haul. Avan didn't comment; instead, he said his goodbyes and went to track down General O'Neill, intent on filling him in on everything.

-/-

Jack entered the outer portion of the null-magic cell, one hand loosely resting on his gun just in case. Teyla was behind him, accompanied by several more Marines and Avan. The Wraith in the cell ignored everyone save for Avan, focusing solely on him. Avan had decided to let his glamor on his eyes fall, intent on provoking a reaction out of their captive.

“ _Avem ignis,_ ” the Wraith hissed out, quickly rising to his feet. “So you finally show your true face, and only after so many of my brethren have fallen.”

Avan shrugged. “Yeah, well, you brought that shit on yourselves,” he said casually, sticking his hands in his pants pockets. “I bring Judgment where needed. Your Queen decided to go against a vastly superior force, and it cost you your Hive. Besides, she really shouldn't have pissed off the gods and other powers that be by killing off my kind. That's like standing on a mountain in the middle of a thunderstorm and being covered entirely in metal. You're just asking to get struck by lightning.”

“He's got a point,” Jack said, more than faintly amused by what Avan had said. “You guys did bring it on yourselves. You got a name?”

The lieutenant drew himself up to his full height. “Obsidian, second lieutenant of Coldamber Hive,” he said imperiously. “And you, human?”

“Werewolf, actually, and yeah, it's General Jack O'Neill. Two 'l's,” Jack replied. “Look, I'll be straight with you: we're going to finish the job your Queen started. We're not going to leave a threat to our city and the world in general to rebuild itself.”

Obsidian snorted softly. “Coldamber is weak,” he spat. “She's insane and can't spawn any more soldiers. The whole Wraith save for one drone was there today, and that drone was left behind as a guard. Whoever you didn't kill likely returned to the Hive to recover, but she won't be any credible threat. She won't even go out and hunt humans to feed herself. She just feeds off that fire bird she has kept captive.”

“She really does have another phoenix?” Avan asked sharply, his posture shifting from forcedly casual to tense and alert. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. She keeps the damn thing behind heavy wards, though,” Obsidian said. “Only she and a few trusted individuals can get through them.”

“And if she's killed?” Jack asked. “Would the wards fall then?”

Obsidian hesitated, unsure. “I don't know,” he admitted after a moment. “She's just insane enough that she might have tied them to herself rather than the ward stone of the Hive itself. Or she could've trapped the wards to fail spectacularly and kill everyone within the Hive if she dies.”

“That's easily taken care of,” Jack mused. He sighed. “What would you do or want in return for getting us into the Hive?”

Obsidian tilted his head momentarily as he considered Jack and the question he'd posed. “Freedom, naturally,” he said. “I don't want to spend all my days in a cell, especially not one like this.”

“What would you do if we let you go? It'd just be you; whatever remains of your Hive would be wiped out,” Jack warned. Avan looked at him in surprise. Surely he wasn't actually going to let the Wraith go free. That was insane.

Obsidian hesitated again before sinking down onto the bench in the center of the cell. “I don't know. A Wraith without a Hive is nothing,” he said, his bravado seeping out of him as he sat there. “I would rather be dead than deal with that sort of existence.”

Avan cleared his throat gently. “I can place a mark of Judgment on you if you like. It would then be up to the gods then as to what your fate would be. That's only if you'll agree to let us put a tracker in you just in case,” he said, catching Jack's expression. “Would you agree to those terms?”

Obsidian considered it and then nodded. “Coldamber was once a great Queen,” he said contemplatively, “but time and madness have taken their toll. It's time her reign ended for good. I'll help you get in to the Hive. There are above-ground entrances you can use. Afterwards, let me go into the wild lands near the Hive. I'll stay away from any human settlements for as long as I can or until the gods decide my fate. You can put your tracker in or on me. Perhaps it's time for the Wraith to end. Our time was over long ago, I think, and I'd rather go out with dignity than due to my Queen's insanity.”

Jack nodded, looking a little more pleased about the situation. It wasn't the perfect solution, but it was better than nothing or letting Obsidian waste away in the cell until he died. He made the decision to have a remote observation spell placed on him as well to keep an eye on him, just in case the NID got it into their minds to try and spirit Obsidian away for their own needs and agenda. Better safe than sorry, after all.

-/-

The above-ground entrance to the Hive that Obsidian led them to was located in a shallow cave in a hill that had been carved out by wind and rain over the centuries. It had been warded against outsiders noticing it, but Obsidian was able to disable those wards and allow the thirty Marines-- led by John, who'd recovered enough to deal with things –to enter. He left them to find their own way down to the throne room where Coldamber was most likely to be, giving them directions before starting his long and lonely walk into the scrublands, not looking back at the Hive that had been his home for centuries on end.

The Lanteans headed down into the twisting and turning halls of the Hive, keeping their eyes out for anyone on the way. The Hive was eerily empty and quiet, giving the impression that it had been abandoned for far longer than the day or so it had been since the attack on Atlantis had happened. They kept their weapons and spells at the ready regardless, not wanting to run into anything unpleasant and be caught unawares.

They entered the throne room to find Coldamber on her throne, the withered husks of the two lieutenants on the floor at her feet. She held a glass of what looked to be red wine in one hand and was absently staring into its depths as she swirled it gently around.

“Come to kill me?” she asked, looking up at John and the Marines as they surrounded her. “You are bold, coming into the heart of my Hive without knowing what I could do to you.”

“You're powerless here,” John pointed out. “You have no one to back you up. All your people are dead. None of this would've happened if you hadn't started killing off the phoenixes.”

“Ah, the true reason why you are here reveals itself,” Coldamber said, setting her glass aside on the arm of her throne. She rose to her feet, her head held high. “Well? Kill me, already, if that is why you are here. What are you waiting for?”

“Oh, we're not going to kill you, lady,” John replied, motioning for one of the mages to secure Coldamber in null-magic cuffs. “There's a pissed off phoenix who is waiting to pass Judgment on you.”

Coldamber's eyes widened at that. She'd been expecting to be killed outright, but to undergo Judgment from a phoenix? That was something she hadn't even considered. She smiled slyly. “A phoenix, hmm? Are you sure you want to do that? You have no idea what that might happen if that occurs.”

“We're willing to take our chances. Cadman, Stackhouse, Markham, Wilmott, go see if you can find where she's keeping the other phoenix. Wilmott, you're the wards expert here. If you can't take them down safely... Well, let Cadman play,” John ordered, earning a grin from Cadman at that. The demolitions expert loved her job far too much sometimes, John thought.

The four of them headed out, using the directions Obsidian had given them to make their way through the deeper reaches of the Hive to where the phoenix was being held. They could see him through the open doorway. Coldamber had fed on him before she'd left to the battle, leaving him withered and aged in his prison. He focused weakly on them when he heard them, confusion writ broad across his face.

“Hello? Who's there?”

“The cavalry,” Cadman told him brightly as Wilmott began to cast diagnostic spells on the doorway. He hummed thoughtfully as he scanned the runes on the readout.

“Well, the wards are centered on the doorway only,” he muttered, more to himself than to the others. “They extend maybe a foot past the door either way.”

“Can you take them down?” Markham asked. Wilmott shook his head.

“Nah, they're too ingrained. They're fuckin' _ancient_. We'd be better goin' through the wall,” he said, which had Cadman grinning again. Five minutes later and she'd blown a satisfyingly large hole through the wall, sending debris everywhere. They entered the room beyond, with Wilmott and Stackhouse examining the globe that held the phoenix captive while Cadman and Markham stood guard at the hole they'd created.

The globe was surprisingly simple to disable, as it was magically tied to a crystal array in the corner of the room. Once that was deactivated, the globe slowly lowered to the floor before dissolving around the phoenix. He let out a low moan when he touched the ground, slowly curling up in a shivering ball. Stackhouse carefully scooped him up in his arms, cradling him against his body.

“It's okay,” he said as they left the room and headed back to the throne room. “We're going to get you somewhere safe and sound where you can rest and heal.”

“Thank you,” the phoenix murmured, his voice as weak and frail sounding as his body looked. “I owe you a boon for this.”

“No, you don't,” Stackhouse assured him. “We're doing this because we want to. What's your name?”

The phoenix let out a rough laugh. “I barely know any more. I haven't been called by my proper name in centuries.”

“What do you think it is?” Cadman asked curiously. “Or what do you remember?”

The phoenix was quiet for a long moment as he thought. “Din,” he said finally. “At least, that's what I remember being called once by someone I loved.” He let out a low wounded noise. “Gods, that was so long ago... My 'Van...”

He whispered those last words and then slumped against Stackhouse's chest as he passed out, his shallow breaths the only sign he was still truly alive. The four Marines exchanged loaded looks before hurrying their pace as much as they could without Stackhouse jostling his precious burden overly hard. They made it to the throne room easily enough to find that the others were still waiting for them, though Coldamber had already been taken outside and transported to a secure location where Avan was waiting to deal with her.

“Everyone okay?” John asked when he spotted them.

“We need to get him back to Atlantis soon, sir,” Markham replied. “I don't know how long he has.” He paused. “Sir, he told us his name.”

“And?” John prompted. “What is it?”

“Din, sir. He said his name was Din.”

-/-

Avan watched the Wraith Queen be brought into the holding cell that had been specially prepared just for her from behind the privacy of a one-way glass window in one of the walls. The cell was warded against any and all magical travel that the mages on Atlantis could think of, just in case she managed to slip free of the magic-dampening cuffs on her wrists. A lone chair sat in the center of the room, its legs bolted to the ground. She was quickly secured to it by both wrists, ensuring that she couldn't escape. Two Marines stood guard nearby with weapons at the ready just in case.

Avan sighed before leaving his observation post and then entering the holding cell. He nodded to the two guards and then rounded the chair to look at Coldamber, his hands stuck in his pockets as he contemplated her bound form.

“You,” the Queen spat out. “I have been searching for you for far too long, Fire Guardian, and here you are, allying yourself with the _pets_ of the Ancients. How pitiful.”

“To you, maybe, but to me, they're good people,” Avan said calmly. He wasn't going to let her get a rise out of him if he could help it. “You know why you're here?”

“Yes. Judgment,” Coldamber replied. “I have always been curious as to what that entails, though I never thought I would experience it myself.”

“Most don't, and yet always seem surprised when it happens.” Avan shook his head before raising a hand and beginning to sketch fiery sigils in the air with his fingers. “I call upon the Law of Flame and Wing,” he intoned, flicking his fingers in decisive motions as he spoke and sending the burning symbols to hover just over Coldamber's head in a quickly forming parody of a crown. “I call upon the flame that cleanses, the wind that cools, the water that nourishes, and the earth that grows: lend me your strength. I call upon all gods great and small: make me the bearer of your power. I call forth Judgment to flow through me as its vessel and mete out proper justice upon the one before me. Thus speaks the last known Arbiter of the Law of Flame and Wing!”

The sigils over Coldamber's head began to spin rapidly, becoming a whirlwind streak of light and flames that soon expanded to encompass her entire body. Coldamber let out a harsh scream as the magical flames engulfed her, though it wasn't long before she was rendered silent. There was no scent of burning flesh or anything like that as the magic consumed her; she was merely alive one moment and dead the next, her body dissolving into nothingness in a show of sparks and fading flames seconds afterwards.

Avan let his eyes fall closed as he sank to the floor, exhaustion overtaking him. He was thankful that the threat of the Wraith was finally over, but the victory felt strangely hollow. Had it truly been worth it? Sure, the Wraith were gone, but at what cost? He suspected he'd be asking himself that question for years to come.

One of the Marines who'd been standing guard stepped forward hesitantly after several minutes, clearing her throat softly before speaking. “Uh, Doctor Kavanagh?” she said. “Is everything-- Are you alright?”

“I don't know, Lieutenant Tandy,” Avan replied quietly before looking up at her, his expression drawn. “I-- Let's just go home. Please?”

“Sure thing, Doc,” Tandy replied, giving him an encouraging smile. “And thank you.”

Avan looked at her with an expression of confused exhaustion as he got to his feet. “What for, Lieutenant?”

“For ending the Wraith threat. For essentially saving us all.”

Avan let out a hollow laugh. “Saving us. Right. That's... Yeah. You're welcome.”

He left the room, wanting nothing more than to curl up under his blankets and never come out again. The three of them returned to Atlantis shortly after that, arriving in one of the designated teleportation rooms. Avan intended on going to his room and just sleeping, but Rodney was waiting rather impatiently for him in the hall outside the arrival room.

“There you are!” he said, hurrying forward and grabbing hold of Avan's wrist. “Come on, we need to get to the infirmary, and _fast_.”

“Rodney, what's going on?” Avan asked, stumbling along after his friend as they hurried through the halls and to the nearest transporter. “Why the big rush?”

“It'll be easier just to show you,” Rodney told him. “Now _hurry_!”

“Alright, alright, I'm coming, I'm coming,” Avan said as they entered the transporter. One mildly vertigo-inducing ride later and they were emerging into the hallway near the infirmary. Still feeling greatly confused, Avan followed Rodney inside, noting with some satisfaction that there was only one bed that was currently occupied. Good. That meant only one of their own or of those who had come to reinforce them had been hurt enough to need a large amount of Carson's healing care. It was one more than preferred, naturally, but he wasn't about to be picky.

“Alright, we're here. Now what's going on?” Avan asked, keeping his voice down. He didn't want Carson getting angry about them causing a disturbance in his domain. For all his usual placidity, Carson could be rather intimidating when greatly annoyed, and Avan had no wish to experience that any time soon. Once was more than enough, thank you very much.

Rodney shook his head as he pulled him over to the lone occupied bed, stopping at its foot. An elderly man lay sleeping upon it, though Avan didn't recognize him. An IV had been set into the vein near the crook of his left arm, the bags on the tall stand next to the bed feeding him both much-needed fluids and healing potions.

“Well?” Avan prompted quietly. “Are you going to say anything or just stand there like an idiot?”

“I'm not an idiot,” Rodney said immediately, “and yes, I am. It's _him_ , Avan.”

“What?” Avan stared at Rodney, his shock getting the better of him. “What are you talking about?”

“It's _Din_ ,” Rodney continued on. “The Wraith must've fed on him before we got there. Ronon says this is what happens when they feed on people but don't drain them dry.” He went pale as his mind made the next logical leap. “Fuck. She must've been feeding on him off and on all this time. Maybe she forced some regenerations? She must have in order to--”

“Rodney. _Stop_.” Avan gave him a pained look. “Please don't continue that line of thought.” He lifted a hand, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “How do you know it's him?”

“He told Cadman and the others who he was when they rescued him,” Rodney said. “It's Din. Just a little more... wrinkly than you're used to.”

Avan let out a near-breathless huff of laughter at that, unsure of what else to do or say. Was it really his beloved mate? Could the gods have been simultaneously so cruel and amazing to have given him his Din back? He supposed he really wouldn't know until the man in the bed before him woke up and could answer his questions for him.

Rodney quietly fetched the chair he usually sat in while visiting others in the infirmary and set it next to the right side of the bed before guiding Avan to take a seat on it. He did so, not taking his eyes off the man in the bed. He didn't care how long it took; he was going to find out if this was indeed his mate in front of him. Rodney grabbed another chair and sat down on the other side of the bed, not wanting to leave his friend alone at such a crucial time.

Avan got his answer almost three hours after he'd first sat down. He'd dozed off in his chair, Rodney letting him since it looked like he'd desperately needed the sleep. He wasn't sure what had woken him. A sound of a passerby, perhaps, or Carson checking on his lone patient. Whatever it was, Avan found himself stirring, his eyes cracking open and then immediately focusing on the bed and its occupant.

The patient was awake and looking blearily at him, a faintly puzzled expression furrowing his brow. The ember-red eyes were a dead giveaway that he was a phoenix, something that reassured Avan more than a little. That didn't mean that it was Din, though, and while Avan knew he was being stubborn, he wanted to hear the proof for himself and not second-hand.

“Hello,” he said, doing his best to remain calm. His voice betrayed him some, a faint tremor marring his words. “I was told we might know one another, though I'm not entirely sure if that's true. May I know your name so I can decide for myself?”

The other man cleared his throat, the sound more than a little rough, and then began to cough. Avan reached over and grabbed a cup from the bedside table before pouring some water into it. One straw insertion later and he was helping his fellow phoenix take a much-needed drink after the coughing was done.

“Thank you,” the patient said once his thirst had been slaked and his throat appropriately moistened. “As for my name, they were right. You already know it.”

Avan's breath caught in his chest and his heart began beating in triple time. “I don't-- Fuck me,” he breathed. “ _Din_?”

That earned him a tired smile. “In the wrinkled but otherwise whole flesh.”

Avan let out a watery laugh as tears began to stream down his face. Din reached out with his free hand, doing his best to ignore the trembling in it. Avan took hold of it with both of his hands, his thumbs rubbing lightly over the thin skin on its back. He bowed his head over it, shoulders shaking as he let out over seven hundred years of grief and anguish. Din made soothing sounds, eventually pulling his hand free in order to lightly tug at Avan's braid, which drew another shaky laugh from his mate.

“Devolving to hair pulling now?” Avan joked weakly.

“No. Just thinking that you'll be able to cut this to a proper length soon enough,” Din said. Rodney, who had been keeping quiet up until then, leaned forward in his chair, intrigued.

“Why couldn't he cut it before?” he asked. Avan startled and then looked up at Rodney.

“What? Oh. It's a sign of mourning for phoenixes,” he said. “We usually keep our hair short otherwise. He's right, though. I can cut it now.” Avan reached up and roughly brushed the tears from his cheeks. “After we get you back to normal, Din. You can cut it then. We'll have to find a place to do the rejuvenation ceremony at before that can happen. I'm not sure where we'd be able to do it on the city, however.”

“I'm sure we can find somewhere,” Rodney told him. He got to his feet. “You two keep catching up. I'm going to go see if the database has any suggestions. If nothing else, we can always just fireproof a storage room or something similar as much as possible and you can use that.”

“Thank you, Rodney,” Avan replied. Rodney merely smiled at his oldest friend.

“You're more than welcome.” With that, he left, letting the two reunited mates continue to bask in the knowledge that they were together once again for the first time in over seven hundred years.

Carson came over to check on them a half hour later, and discovered that Avan had curled up in the bed next to Din, both of them having fallen asleep. A quick check of Din's vitals showed that he was already starting to regain a goodly portion of his health, though it wouldn't be a hundred percent until he underwent the regeneration ritual with Avan.

Carson smiled to himself once he finished his work, quietly stepping away from the bed. He was overjoyed for Avan that he had his mate back, even if Din was currently in a diminished form. He drew the privacy curtain around the bed before fully leaving, not wanting his patients to be disturbed. The curtain had charms imbued in it to muffle sound from the outside, ensuring that the much-needed sleep the two phoenixes were getting remained undisturbed.

When Rodney returned in an excited flurry two hours after that, Carson quickly and quietly brought him to his office to talk.

“Did you find anything?” he asked as they sat down in the chairs he kept there.

“Quite a few things,” Rodney replied with a broad smile. “Zelenka had the brilliant idea to search for the term the Wraith used for phoenixes--  _ avem ignis – _ in the Ancient's database. Apparently they had a special room for phoenixes to use for their regeneration rituals, but it gets even better. There was a mention of restoring something called a  _ potentia _ in that same entry. Carson, that's the term the Ancients referred to the ZedPMs as. We might just have a viable way of recharging the empty ones we have and bringing the city back to her full glory!”

Carson leaned back in his chair, his eyes wide as he considered the implications of that. “Well,” he said finally, “that's all wonderful Rodney, truly it is, but it's going to have to wait until Avan and Din are ready. You're not to go badgering them about it just because you want more power flowing through the city. I won't let you interfere with their healing. They've only just been reunited after so long. I can't imagine what it's like for them right now.”

“I won't bother them, I promise,” Rodney said. “I swear it. I'm not  _ that _ cold-hearted, Carson.”

“I know you're not, but you do get overeager at times,” Carson replied. “Just... let them rest for now, alright?”

“I already said I would,” Rodney pointed out. “Don't worry about it.” He got to his feet. “I'm going to see if I can't get a group together to go investigate the room.” He paused before he left. “You know, I have the strangest feeling that the city  _ wanted _ us to find that room. We've never had that good or quick of results from the database before.”

“Maybe she's just as eager to be back to full power as you,” Carson suggested with a small smile. “Go have fun investigating, but be safe. Maybe take John with you.”

Rodney considered that and then nodded. “Yeah, that'd probably be a good idea. I'll keep you updated. Talk to you later!”

He left the office, going to track down John so they could explore the city and prepare for the rebirth of the last two phoenixes in the world.

 


	6. Part the Sixth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a brief sex scene at the end of the chapter. If that's not your thing, skip to the next chapter after the large break. It's hard to miss. If it's your thing, then full steam ahead.

Din woke slowly the next morning, confusion getting the better of him for a little while until he realized where he was and why he was so comfortable and warm for the first time in over seven hundred years. A solid and warm weight against his right side had him turning his head and looking blearily over to see what it was. He smiled to himself when he saw what-- or rather who –it was. Avan lay sleeping curled up against him, his tall frame stubbornly arranged in a rather awkward and crunched up position so they could both fit on the bed.

His face was smoothed out in slumber, erasing any signs of worry or grief he had once carried there. His breathing was light and even, showing just how deeply asleep he actually was. Din smiled fondly, a swell of love nearly overwhelming him. Gods, he'd missed the simple pleasures of life. Merely being able to sleep in the same bed next to his mate was more amazing than words could describe. Sure, they might not be doing anything more than sleeping at the moment, but Din hardly cared. He was free and had his Avan back.

Din lay watching Avan until his mate stirred several minutes later, laughing softly when he saw Avan's nose wrinkle faintly as he woke. Avan opened his eyes, blinking slowly a few times before focusing completely on Din. He smiled sleepily at him before stretching out his legs with a grimace.

“Ugh. Shouldn't have slept like that,” he mumbled, wincing as the blood flow in his legs reasserted itself.

“That's your own fault for being so tall,” Din teased lightly. He worked Avan's hair loose from its braid and carefully smoothed it out before running his fingers through it. Avan hummed happily, leaning into the gentle touch. They lay like that until Carson came to check on them, the master healer wishing them a good morning when he saw they were awake. Avan reluctantly moved away from Din so Carson could perform his check up, not wanting to move too far away from his mate.

Carson proclaimed Din better but still not entirely up to snuff, but that wouldn't truly happen until they went through with the rejuvenation ritual. They would need the supplies and a good place for that to happen before they could do that, but they weren't in any huge rush for the time being. It would likely take several days at the very least to get the proper kinds of untreated woods, rare spices, and aromatic oils that were needed, even with the power of the Internet and teleportation magics.

Neither phoenix particularly minded, simply glad to be in one another's presences for the time being. Carson made sure that the both of them were supplied with a good breakfast not long after the checkup, though in deference to Din's lower appetite, didn't have as much food put on his tray as Avan's had. Rodney turned up just as the two of them were finishing their breakfasts, accompanied by John and General O'Neill.

“Avan,” Rodney said, almost running up to the end of the bed. “You are _not_ going to believe what we found.”

Avan held up a hand. “Wait a minute, Rodney,” he said, far too used to his friend's enthusiasm to be bothered by his abrupt entrance. He turned to Din. “Din, this is Doctor Rodney McKay, Colonel John Sheppard, and General Jack O'Neill. Rodney has been one of my best friends over the past twenty years or so. He was the one who actually summoned me. Colonel Sheppard is the military leader of Atlantis, and the General, our main higher contact with the government.”

Din fought back a soft laugh at the faintly flustered look Rodney got at the praise Avan gave him, instead giving him a warm smile. “It's a pleasure to meet you all. Thank you for taking care of my mate for me for so long, Rodney. I'm glad to know he has such a good friend by his side for the past little while, and look forward to getting to know all of you better.”

Rodney was definitely flustered by then, but gave Din a brisk nod of thanks regardless. “Same here,” he said. “I've heard so much about you over the years that it almost feels like I know you, but I want to get to know you personally as well.”

“Alright, now that introductions are over... You had something you wanted to tell us, Rodney?” Avan prompted. Rodney smiled broadly, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

“Yes, we did,” he said. “So, Zelenka pulled off a moment of brilliance last night. He put in the term that the Wraith kept using for you guys-- _avem ignis_ –into the Ancient database. You know how finicky that thing is, even with some of the improvements and bypasses we've made over the years, but this time, it actually worked.”

Avan's eyebrows rose sharply at that. “Seriously? Usually it's like pulling teeth to get it to spit out any kind of useful result in any sort of reasonable time.”

“I know, right? It gets even better, though. It pulled up a lot of information about your kind, but more importantly, it mentioned a room that was used for your rebirth rituals,” Rodney said. “It also said that if _potentia_ are placed within what they call a 'revitalizing chamber' in the same room before a ritual happens, the amount of pure magical energy that's released during that ritual will replenish the _potentia._ ”

“You're... you're talking about restoring ZPMs,” Avan said, eyes widening. “That would... Even _one_ full ZPM could run Atlantis for centuries if managed right, but three? Have you seen the room in person? How many can be recharged at once? Did the database mention anything about how to make more ZPMs?”

“Yes, six, and no, in order,” Rodney said with a laugh. “We could charge enough ZPMs to fully power both Atlantis and Lemuria for a very, _very_ long time. We're going to ask Lemuria to send their ZPMs over once you two are actually ready to do your thing.”

“And if you do them all at once, no one can say you were just focusing on Atlantis' needs and try to do anything dumb,” Jack added in. “And if they _do_ try it, they'll have to deal with some very pissed off people. You guys are the new heroes of the city. I'm pretty sure just about everyone would try to go to arms if anything happened to you again.”

“Heroes?” Avan asked, surprised. “We barely did anything. I mean, sure, I called Judgment on the Wraith Queen, but that was about it. It's Colonel Sheppard and the other fighters who deserve all that praise, not us.”

“I think they like the whole tragic romance angle of your story,” John said with a shrug. “I'm fine with not being the center of attention.”

“You're still getting that commendation,” Jack told him. “The top brass are insisting on it, and I don't think they'll let you wiggle out of it.”

John sighed. “Yes, sir.”

“So, anyways, back to the ritual. What do you two need for it?” Rodney asked, pulling out a notebook and pen from a back pocket.

“Spices, oils, and untreated woods,” Din replied. “We need at least a pound of cinnamon bark, lemongrass, cloves, and nutmeg each to place amongst the wood, as well as a little saffron if you can get it. As for the woods, cedar, pine, and sandalwood are the ones we've always favored. The oils... Hmm.” He looked at Avan. “What would you want?”

“Well, you've got the cedar, cinnamon, and lemongrass already taken care of,” Avan mused. “Maybe some lemon and bergamot? We'll need... Mm... A quarter of a gallon of each? That can be easily purchased online or any place that sells essential oils. We'll need to see the room itself, but usually we go with about a third of a cord for each type of wood.”

Rodney noted everything down before nodding. “Got it. I think we should be able to get everything here easily enough. I think the spices and oils might be the hardest things to get, but it shouldn't take more than... what, two days at the most, I think?”

“Sounds about right,” Jack said. “Don't worry about the costs. Just save the receipts and get them to me when you can so I can get you reimbursed.”

“Great. I'll contact Lemuria when we've got everything ready,” Rodney said. John placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe when _they're_ ready?” he suggested, inclining his head briefly at Avan and Din. “We'll also have to see what Carson has to say.”

“He was here just a little while ago,” Avan said. “Gave Din a clean bill of health, such as it is.”

“And he is aware that we want to do the ritual as soon as we can,” Din added. “I would like to be back to full health as soon as possible. Being like this is... frustrating, to say the least. I don't want to have to deal with it for any longer than is necessary.”

“Of course,” John said. “We'll get started on everything today. You'll be back to your old self in no time.”

“On that note, we'd best get moving if we want to get everything organized,” Rodney said, tucking the notepad and pen back into his pocket. “We'll let you know when everything's ready for you two. Until then, both of you should rest and relax.”

“Thank you,” Din said sincerely. “That means a lot to me.”

“And to me as well,” Avan said before shooting Rodney a teasing grin. “Never thought I'd hear you give me permission to take a break when it comes to work, McKay.”

Rodney let out a huff at that while both John and Jack laughed good-naturedly. “Hey, I know how important this is to you,” he protested. “Besides, technically you'll be doing work if the whole ZedPM recharging thing actually happens, so I'm not exactly going to complain too much.”

“Just only a little?” Avan continued on, making Rodney roll his eyes.

“Whatever, you ridiculous featherbrain,” he shot back.

“Meddlesome mage,” Avan retorted, unable to hold back a grin. “You'd best go before Carson kicks you out for getting too loud.”

Rodney rolled his eyes again before saying his goodbyes, John and Jack following after him as he left. Avan settled in next to Din once more, resting his head against his mate's shoulder. They'd soon be made whole again and their mate bond fully restored. Life was finally looking up for them.

-/-

All of the ingredients that were needed arrived two days later and were stored in a small antechamber just off the ritual room for whenever Din and Avan were ready. It was another day after that before the two phoenixes were prepared to go through with everything. Avan entered the room a few minutes before the planned start time to see Rodney coming out of a side chamber.

“Everything set to go?” he asked, earning a nod from Rodney.

“Yes. Lemuria sent over their ZedPMs a few minutes ago via teleport. They sent along a few people as well to take them back once we're done. How long does the ritual usually last?” Rodney asked curiously.

“It's been a while, so I'm not sure how long this one will be, but usually about a half-hour to forty-five minutes,” Avan replied, looking around the room. It had a deep bowl-shaped pit in the middle of the floor, shallow steps leading down into it. Rune-lined channels were carved into the floor as well, leading to specialized magic collection wells in each corner. They were lined with the crystals that the Ancients seemed to prefer to create their magitech from, and through some internal channels that wound through the floors, would bring the magic they collected into the ZPM revitalization chamber and disperse it to the ZPMs and then ward stones if needed.

“Alright.” Rodney paused before holding out his hand. “Good luck.”

Avan rolled his eyes, took hold of Rodney's hand, and then pulled him in for a hug. “Thank you, Rodney,” he replied, ignoring Rodney's brief spluttered protests before his friend hugged him back, “for everything.”

“You're welcome,” Rodney replied, stepping back a pace once Avan let him go. “Though maybe save the thanks for when you're through with this. We can throw a party and everything. Gods know we need one after the Wraith.”

Avan laughed as Carson showed up with Din in a wheelchair. “Sounds like a good idea. I'll leave the planning to you.”

“Planning for what?” Carson asked curiously when he drew near.

“A 'thank the gods we didn't die' party,” Rodney replied. “I figure we're due for one with everything that's happened.”

“Aye, I think you're right,” Carson agreed with a chuckle. “Rodney, you'd best be going; the Colonel wanted to make sure you were safe and out of the way before anything happened.”

Rodney huffed softly. “That worrisome dragon,” he grumbled. “I'm hardly going to stand in the middle of the fire and take readings. Alright, I'll go. Goodbye, everyone.”

He headed out, leaving via the nearby teleporter. Carson locked the wheelchair and then carefully led Din over to a low bench nearby while Avan started arranging things to his liking. He started by laying a soft cushion of magic over the floor of the pit, not wanting even the slightest chance of discomfort to intrude on the ritual. He then began arranging the wood in a shape almost resembling a beaver's dam, the top of the dome rising just a little above the pit's top at the center. The oils were poured over the wood, followed by the spices; once everything was done, the room was filled with the pleasantly mixed aromatic scents of the oils, spices, and woods.

Carson helped Din to his feet and then handed him off to Avan before leaving the room, the door sealing shut behind him. He wouldn't be able to survive the intense amounts of heat and magic that would be thrown off by the two phoenixes, so he would be waiting in a nearby room to check on things afterwards. Avan led Din into the heart of the pyre, keeping hold of his hand all the while.

“Ready?” he asked, his heartbeat beginning to race a little. Din just smiled at him, love clear in his eyes.

“Ready,” he confirmed, taking hold of Avan's other hand. “You'll have to start us off, though, love.”

Avan nodded, closed his eyes, and then gathered his magic around him before letting it flow out in rippling waves. The air around them grew hot, the temperature rising even further as Din added his own magic. It wasn't long before they were standing in the center of a raging bonfire, the oil-damp wood crackling and snapping around them.

“We call upon the flame that cleanses, the wood that burns, the oils that nourish, and the spices that sweeten the air that fuels the flames,” Avan began, the flames beginning to flow around their feet and drop onto their heads, burning away the clothing they wore; robes were waiting for them in the room Carson was in once they were done.

“Renew our spirits and bodies, make us whole and hale once more,” Din continued on, the magic surging between and around them. “Mend what was broken and restore what was lost. Grant us once more the gift the gods bestowed upon us with the First Kindling!”

The magic-fueled fire roared around them, the flames whirling about in a wild firestorm. Avan kept his eyes fixed solely on Din, watching as the damage the Wraith Queen had caused was slowly but surely reversed until Din was back in his regular youthful form. As the flames washed over them, their mate bond surged and snapped fully back into place, driving the both of them to their knees.

“Oh gods,” Din groaned, his grip on Avan's hands loosening in his shock. Tears ran down his face, vaporizing almost instantly in the face of the overwhelming heat. Avan was in much the same state, gasping for air like a fish out of water before surging forward and wrapping his arms around his mate's body. They toppled backwards, Din reciprocating Avan's gesture and enfolding him in his embrace.

They lay there like that for a while as the fire raged around them, exchanging murmured endearments and declarations of love as the ritual ran its course. Towards the end, a new surge of magic, this one very old and bringing to mind the vast expanses of the wild ocean and waves glittering with sunshine, flowed over them.

_Children of the Eternal Fire, will you do us the great honor of becoming our Flame Guardians?_ a warm female voice murmured in their minds, a faint hint of chimes like far-off church bells echoing behind it.  _It has been so long since we have felt the warmth of the magic of your kind flowing through our halls._

Avan's eyes widened as he looked up at Din. “Uh... Did you hear that?”

“Yes,” Din replied, looking just as startled as Avan. He cleared his throat before speaking once more. “Is this... Atlantis?”

_That is what those who live within our halls call us,_ came the reply.  _We are the Lantean Collective, but you may call us Atlantis._

“Alright, thank you,” Din said. “What does it mean to be your Flame Guardians?”

_In return for using the magic you have released to replenish the_ potentia _, we would provide you with shelter and protect you from those who wish to abuse your abilities and powers,_ Atlantis replied. 

“So... Pretty much you'd just let us keep living here?” Avan asked, resting his head back against the floor. “Doesn't seem like there's much of anything in it for us.”

“Avan!” Din protested, releasing him enough to push himself up on his hands and look down at him. “Antagonizing the very city we're living in isn't the best idea!”

“I'm just telling the truth,” Avan replied stubbornly.

_Calm yourselves, Fire Children,_ Atlantis said, amusement clear in her voice.  _We are not offended. We are thankful for the help those who have lived here for the past one hundred and sixty seven solar cycles have given us to restore us to our full glory and help their fellow beings. Very well. In the days of our creators, the Flame Guardians acted as advisers and companions to those in leadership positions when they were not serving their divine purposes. They worked with those who oversaw our wards and the safety of our citizens, acting as protectors. They sat on our Grand Councils, providing insight and serving as arbiters of justice when necessary. Would you take on those roles within our walls in return for the magic you have provided, and any future magic set off by a ritual like the one you just undertook while in our halls?_

“Again, pretty much what I've already been doing,” Avan said. “You mentioned being able to protect us from those who would want to abuse our abilities.”

_Yes. You would not be eternally bound to our halls, but we would share magics and strengthen one another, much like the mate bond that exists between the two of you, though it would not supersede it. We will help guide you towards as many of the answers you seek as is safe and provide you with reasons for what we cannot. We will ensure that what happened within our walls will never occur again._ There was some anger in Atlantis' voice then, and Avan knew she was speaking of his own kidnapping.  _The High Mage, War Leader, and Master Healer will be included in this as well. They are three of our Favored, as are you. We will not tolerate actions against those who live within our halls, but especially not against our Favored._

Avan looked up at Din, who had taken up a seated position next to him. “What do you think, Din? This is up to you. I don't want us trapped into anything.”

“I don't think we will be,” Din replied as Avan sat up as well. “If this protects us... You spoke of the NID already trying to take you and give you to the Wraith. Who's to say that they won't try something like that again? I don't know a lot about what the world is like right now, but I'd rather be bound to Atlantis than trapped like an animal again by someone who would use us for their own gain.”

Avan bit his lip, thinking. He was quiet for a long moment before speaking again. “Atlantis?”

_Yes_ ?

“Would we be able to leave for a while? To travel if we needed or wanted to?”

_Of course,_ Atlantis replied.  _As we said, you would not be fully bound to us. We would not begrudge you the chance to spread your wings. Oh! If you agree to becoming our Flame Guardians, you would have rooms that were meant specifically for your kind. They are suited particularly for higher temperatures and allowing flight in and out at will. Of course, you could always remain in your current quarters if you like._

Avan exchanged amused looks with Din. Atlantis felt like an overexcited child at times as she tried to do her best to convince them. He had the feeling that they were going to agree regardless, but it was interesting to see just how eager she was.

“We would prefer to not be seen as having preferential treatment, so our current quarters are fine for now,” Din replied with a small smile. “We would be honored to be your Flame Guardians. Is there anything in particular we need to do?”

_No,_ Atlantis replied.  _We are the ones who need to do something. Hold still._

The increasingly familiar magic wrapped around the two of them, sinking deep into their bones and magical cores. It felt like stepping into the warmth of a house after being outside in the deepest of winter. A shiver ran through them as the connection with the city settled over them. It was very intense and took several minutes to get used to.

_Welcome, Flame Guardians, and thank you_ , Atlantis said.  _We will make sure that you do not regret this. Now, we know the High Mage is eager to place the_ potentia _in their receptacles, both here and in our sister Lemuria. They are fully replenished and ready to be installed. Your magics were very potent._

“Thank you,” Din said, amused. “We're glad we could help.” He turned to Avan. “Now, I believe you promised I could give you a hair cut once we were done, and then you were going to show me our quarters properly.”

Avan grinned. “Yes, I did,” he replied. He let his magic swirl around them, clearing away the ashes and remnants of the pyre with ease. The lingering scents of the now vanished wood, oil, and spices clung to their skin and hair, even with the cleansing power of the magic that had swept over them. Carson was still waiting for them in the side chamber, barely blinking an eye at the fact that they were entirely nude. He merely handed them their robes, glad to see them whole and healthy once more.

“You two look wonderful,” he said as Avan sat down on a chair once he'd wrapped the robe around himself and tied the sash around his waist.

“Thank you,” Din said, giving the master healer a warm smile as he clothed himself. “It feels wonderful to be back at full health again, not to mention having our mate bond back to full power. It's amazing.”

“That it is,” Avan agreed, leaning back a little as Din came up behind him. “Nothing too short, love.”

“Of course not,” Din said, running his hands over Avan's hair before murmuring softly under his breath. A pale brown glow surrounded his hands, and as he passed them over Avan's head, hair began to fall to the floor in a soft rain. It took a few minutes, but once Din was finished, Avan's hair was cropped close to his head but not too short. It fell in loose waves against his skull, making his face look less harsh than it usually did with his long hair pulled sharply back.

Din vanished the fallen hair with a small show of magic, making sure it couldn't be used against Avan in any way. Carson nodded in approval as Avan got to his feet.

“Very nice,” he said. “Rodney asked me to request that you call him over the radio once you were done. I suspect he'll want to look at the ZPMs once he's made sure you're both alright.”

“Yeah, well, he'd better make it quick,” Avan said as he took the radio earpiece Carson handed to him. “As much as I like him, I promised my mate we would fully resettle the mate bond, and that's something that definitely can't happen with Rodney around.”

“Why's th-- Oh. _Oh,_ ” Carson said, a faint tinge of red coloring the tips of his ears when he saw the look Din was giving Avan. “Don't mind me. I'll make sure he doesn't keep you too long. While Avan is talking to Rodney, would you mind if I did a general health scan on you, Din?”

“Of course not,” Din replied, giving Carson an easy smile. “Go right ahead.”

Carson cast his diagnostic spells as Din stood patiently still, though the phoenix was unable to keep a fond smile off his face as he listened to Avan talking with Rodney.

“No, McKay, nothing went wrong,” Avan was saying. “What? No, I was a little more interested in making sure Din was alright rather than the ZPMs. Yes, I'm sure they're fine. Look, just get your ass down here before I come up and get you, and I won't be taking the transporter, either.” He paused before grinning. “How about you come down here and see? And I'll let you take some readings _after_ I welcome Din home properly, and not before.”

He took the earpiece off and handed it over to Carson, chuckling softly. “I don't think I've ever heard Rodney speechless before, even if it's momentarily,” he said, still laughing. “Ten to one he'll be coming in here for about two minutes before he can't stand it any more and goes to check on the ZPMs.”

“I'm not taking that bet,” Carson replied, noting down his results on a nearby tablet. “That's a sucker's bet.”

“True,” Avan agreed. “He'll probably be here within the next ten minutes.”

Rodney was there within five, panting a little as he hurried out of the transporter and into the room they were in. He stopped in the doorway, cocking his head a little. “Your eyes are blue,” he said. “Why do they look like regular eyes? Or are you wearing your glamor?”

Avan shook his head. “No glamors,” he replied. “This is how my eyes look when I'm fully healthy.”

“So why aren't his eyes blue?” Rodney asked, gesturing at Din.

“Our eyes reflect the parts of the fire we are most attuned with,” Din said. “When phoenixes are injured or not at full power, our eyes resemble embers regardless of attunement. When we're at full health, they look more... normal. Mine are brown because I'm attuned to the wood of the fire, while Avan is more attuned to the hottest heart of the flame. He's far more reactionary to situations than I am, while I provide the stability in our partnership.”

“Huh.” Rodney focused on him, taking him in. “Alright, then. Well, welcome to Atlantis, by the way. You have a clean bill of health?”

“Yes, he does,” Carson confirmed.

“Good,” Rodney said, looking pleased at that. “I'm glad it went well.”

“It did,” Avan confirmed. “And Rodney? We were right.”

“Huh? About what?”

“About Atlantis,” Avan continued on. “She spoke to Din and I just as our ritual ended. Remember that term the Wraith kept using? Flame Guardian? Turns out it wasn't just something they'd made up. Apparently phoenixes worked in symbiosis with the cities. They provided magic to charge the ZPMs during regeneration rituals and in return were given a place to live, amongst other things. They also worked as advisers across several different areas, as well as the occasional arbiters when needed.”

“And?”

“And we agreed to take on the positions,” Din concluded. “When one of the cities of the Ancients herself asks you to do something, it's hard to say no, especially when it benefits everyone in the long run.”

“This means you won't be leaving, then?” Rodney asked.

“Well, not permanently,” Avan said. “We're not permanently bound to the city, so we can still travel places if needed.”

“That's amazing,” Carson breathed, eyes wide. He looked up at the ceiling. “I always thought the city was alive.”

“We're not sure if she is, exactly, but she's sentient and aware,” Din said carefully. “She seems especially rather protective of five of us.”

“Oh, who?” Rodney asked.

“You, me, Din, John, and Carson,” Avan replied. “She called us her Favored Ones, though I'm not sure what it entirely means for us.”

“Hm. Something to keep to ourselves for now, I think,” Carson mused. “Just in case.”

“Agreed,” Rodney said after a moment. He clapped his hands sharply together. “Right. I'm going to go check on the ZedPMs. I'll see you guys later. Din, Avan, I'm glad to see you both back to full health.”

He bustled out, eager to see the ZPMs in their full glory. Carson shook his head and then chuckled to himself.

“That's Rodney for you,” he said. “Alright, gentlemen, I'm going to head back to the infirmary. I'll leave you to your... reunion.”

“We'll see you later, Carson,” Avan said, taking hold of Din's hand. “Thank you for everything you've done for us.”

“It's all part of the job, but you're more than welcome,” Carson replied, gathering up his tablet before leaving the room as well. Din turned to look at Avan.

“Shall we, my love?” he asked, giving him a mischievous smile. Avan returned the smile with one of his own, lightly squeezing Din's hand in reply.

“Of course.” He led the way out of the chamber and into the transporter, leaving Rodney to deal with the ZPMs on his own.

  
  


-/-/-/-/-/-

  
  


They made it to their quarters without running into anyone, something both were thankful for. While they could've just flame-flashed their way to their quarters, the transporter  _ was _ right there, and it was easier to not expend the brief amount of magic it would take to flame-flash to their quarters and just walk it. Once behind closed doors and raised privacy wards, Din pushed Avan against the nearest wall and kissed him deeply, hands fumbling with the tie of his mate's robe in his search for the bare skin hidden under the soft garment. 

Avan let out a muffled huff of laughter as he let Din push his robe off his shoulders.  _ Eager, are we? _ he asked over their mate bond. Din nipped at his bottom lip in retaliation, before stepping back and shedding his own robe, letting it fall to the floor.

“I'm always eager to make love to you,” he replied. “And I think I've earned the right to be a little over eager since it's been so long we've been together like that.”

He moved over to the bed, pushing back the blankets to its foot before looking over at Avan impatiently. “Well? Come on.”

“Oh, yes, very sexy,” Avan said dryly as he made his way over to the bed. Din rolled his eyes as he settled on the bed near its center.

“I don't need to be overly sexy. I'm your gods-given mate,” he said. “I can try if you like, though.”

“No, no, there's no need for that,” Avan said, laying on his side on the bed next to Din. He leaned in and kissed him gently. Din had no patience for gentleness, however, and carefully maneuvered Avan onto his back before straddling his hips and then kissing him passionately again. Avan rolled with it and returned the kiss, hands coming up to rest on Din's back. His mate had always been rather passionate when it came to love making, even with all his talk about being the more stable one in their relationship.

_ Much better,  _ Din said over the mate bond, sounding quite pleased about how things were going. He settled his weight more fully over Avan's body, using one foot to gently nudge his mate's legs apart. Avan gladly let him do as he liked, too consumed with reacquainting himself with the shape of his mate's body to put up too much of a protest. Not that he really wanted to, to be honest, especially not with how good he was starting to feel. Din's kisses were always intoxicating to him, and this time was no different.

_ Agreed, _ Avan said, tipping his head back as Din started to trail a line of kisses along his neck, leaving the occasional light nip that prompted Avan to let out low moans each time. Din seemed to delight in drawing out those moans and any other pleasure-filled noise from Avan, distracting him from the preparation spell he cast. The sensation the spell caused was always very odd as it gently relaxed the internal muscles and cleansed away any waste or harmful bacteria that might be there, sending shivers down Avan's spine.

_ Ready for me, my love? _ Din asked, lifting his head to look down at Avan questioningly.

_ I've been ready for you for over seven hundred years,  _ Avan replied, lifting a hand up to brush his fingers along the line of Din's jaw.  _ Don't keep me waiting any longer. _

_ Your wish is my command, _ Din said, shifting his weight so he could align his cock properly before he slid into Avan's willing body. Avan moaned deeply, eyes sliding shut at the sensation. Gods, he'd missed this, missed his mate far more than the simple physical pleasures of sex, but to have both again was nearly too much to handle. He hadn't even realized a few tears had escaped the corners of his eyes until Din was carefully brushing them away with a thumb.

_ Gods. Sorry, _ Avan apologized, opening his eyes and blinking away the tears that were collecting there.  _ It's just so... _

_ Overwhelming? _ Din asked softly.  _ I know what you mean.  _ He leaned in and kissed Avan again, though this time it was sweet and slow, a distinct difference from the more passionate kisses from before. Once he was sure Avan was ready, Din began moving, slowly but surely building up his actions until they'd both found a pace that was perfect for them.

Magic grew heavy in the air as they made love, relearning one another's bodies after so long apart. The temperature in the room grew as well, though neither really noticed all that much, too focused on one another to realize what was going on. When they  _ did _ finally notice, it was just as everything came to a culmination in a rush of pleasure, magic, and fire, causing the bed to catch fire in a rush of magic-fueled flames that quickly consumed it, leaving them in the collapsed ruins of the former piece of furniture.

Avan stared up at Din for a long moment before breaking out into startled laughter, his mate joining him shortly afterwards.

“Maybe we should take Atlantis up on her offer of quarters meant for phoenixes,” Avan said as Din carefully moved away and got to his feet. He took Din's hand when it was offered to him and got up as well, absently using a bit of magic to clean both of them up. He turned to survey the bed and the general area around it while Din slid an arm around his waist. “Think we can repair it?”

“No idea, but it couldn't hurt to try,” Din said. He flicked his fingers at the bed, sending a repairing spell at it in hopes that it would work. The bed slowly regained its former shape as the spell set to work, eventually ending up back as it should have been. A few cleaning spells at the walls and floor later and everything looked relatively normal again, though the walls and floor nearest to the bed looked far more burnished than the rest, something that would confuse future occupants to no end.

They quietly moved quarters later that night, following Atlantis' directions to a small suite of rooms one floor up and on the other side of the residential section they were in. The rooms and furniture there were warded against all kinds of fire, magical or mundane, but they added their own spells to them just in case. One never knew what might happen in Atlantis, after all.

 


	7. Part the Seventh

The news that the Wraith threat had been fully eradicated had reached Washington DC by the time General O'Neill returned to the nation's capital, filtering down the ranks and eventually coming to the attention of the NID. The failure and loss of several of their best agents, not to mention their contacts with in the city of Atlantis itself, had been a blow to the intelligence agency for sure. The plans had been to slowly but surely take over the ruling Council, eventually bringing the whole city under their sway. The loss of that opportunity to control an Ancient city had caused quite a bit of consternation, particularly amongst those who had been working towards that goal for decades, if not longer.

Several hasty meetings had been held amongst the higher echelons of the NID as they tried to figure out how they would be able to get their people back into the city and/or getting control of the two phoenixes now in residence. The latter would be far more preferable, as they were reported to be highly magical beings and able to be bound to a particular person. If someone within the organization could bind one or both of the beings to them or to the organization itself, it would be a definite boon, both politically and otherwise.

Eventually, they got a large enough group of their political and military supporters together to try and force the phoenixes out of Atlantis and under their control. They waited until Atlantis had gone back to standard operating procedure and a new Council and civilian leader had been chosen and were settled in before making their move. It started with slowly infiltrating the security team, getting a few of their members in as patrolling guards, as well as some new civilian scientists and mages.

It was another two weeks before they sent a contingent of representatives to the city, claiming that they were there to ensure that everything was back to normal after the Wraith attack. The visitors were taken on a tour of the city, though kept away from some of the more sensitive labs. There were some experiments in progress that were very delicate and would not tolerate outside interference or influences very well in those areas, and no one wanted the representatives to cry foul if something should happen to their visitors.

The tour ended in the atrium, which arguably was both one of the more pretty places in the city and one of the larger areas for a group to gather. The new civilian leader, a retired civil litigation lawyer by the name of Josephine North who was known for her tough but fair attitude and a rather successful career in her past, was waiting for them there. She had her gray-streaked black hair bound back in a low bun, and wore simple tan dress pants and a specially tailored royal purple blouse that looked good with her dark skin and a pair of multi-colored jewel toned butterfly-like wings. She was of Fae heritage and had lived in the city for over a decade, having been working as a liaison between Elizabeth Weir and General O'Neill for the time span the other woman had been leader.

Rodney and John stood to either side of her, with Avan and Din watching from the upper balcony above. They wore casual clothing, with Avan in jeans and a t-shirt and Din in soft pants and a comfortable long-sleeved shirt. Avan leaned on the railing, his crossed arms supporting him, while Din had his hands lightly braced against the railing. Neither wore shoes or socks, as it was always a comfortable temperature in Atlantis, even with the colder temperature outside, not to mention that now they were back at full power, their body temperatures ran around a hundred and two degrees Fahrenheit as a baseline, which made cold floors barely noticeable. They wore shoes when working in the lab, of course, especially if they were using volatile magics or materials.

“Think they'll want to talk to us?” Avan murmured as they watched the tour group enter the atrium, Major Lorne leading the way.

“Maybe,” Din replied, watching as Josephine stepped forward to speak to the tour group, her wings shifting idly behind her as she moved.

“Did you enjoy your tour of the city?” she asked, folding her hands in front of her.

“We did, though we were hoping to meet with the two phoenixes in residence,” the spokesman of the group replied. “Would that be possible? After all, they were instrumental in the defense of the city and the final defeat of the Wraith. We simply _must_ meet them.”

“That would be up to them, Mr. Waters,” Josephine told him, not betraying Avan and Din's positions by looking up at them in the slightest, something both phoenixes appreciated. “They are rather important parts of our community here, and are quite busy most of the time, even on weekends.”

“We would appreciate having the chance, nonetheless,” Waters said, giving her a polite smile that looked false even from where Din and Avan were standing.

“We'll see what we can do. For now, perhaps you'd like a meal? It is getting towards dinner time, and the food here is amazing,” Josephine suggested. “I'm sure we can have you meet with Doctor Kavanagh and his mate afterwards.”

There was some faint grumbling at that but a general air of agreement amongst the group nonetheless. Major Lorne led them to the dining hall, the two phoenixes breathing a sigh of relief once they were out of sight. They left as well, heading back to their quarters momentarily to change into slightly more formal clothing and put shoes on just in case before heading down to the dining hall. John and Rodney were already there, and once they got their food, Din and Avan joined them at their table once John waved them over.

“The tour group wants to meet with you after dinner,” Rodney informed them. Avan nodded as he set his tray down.

“We know,” he replied. “We were watching from the observation balcony. I don't like the fact that they were so insistent on meeting us. It feels... odd.”

“Maybe they're just really glad that the Wraith aren't a problem any more?” John suggested. “I mean, I don't think Atlantis will let them do anything to you two. Don't worry; we'll keep an eye on things if you do go through the meeting just in case, however.”

“We appreciate it,” Din said as he picked up his fork. “I know it sounds paranoid, but I'd rather be wary than trusting of everyone who enters the city, even with Atlantis' protections.”

“Agreed,” Avan said, beginning to eat as well. He doubted they'd ever be entirely unguarded save for in the privacy of their own quarters given what had happened to them, but it was a small price to pay to have some semblance of safety in their day to day lives. The rest of the meal passed in companionable conversation, only ending once the food was entirely gone.

Josephine met them just outside the dining room, an apologetic look on her face. “Doctor Kavanagh. Mr. Din.”

“Mrs. North, you can call us just by our first names,” Din said. “It's perfectly fine. It's a lot easier than calling us by any titles we might have. We don't really stand on ceremony around here.”

“Then you can call me Josephine or Jo, whichever you prefer,” Josephine said, a small, pleased smile on her face. “Either work for me. Anyways, our visitors would like to speak with you about your roles in the defeat of the Wraith, if that's alright with you.”

“Only if Colonel Sheppard and Doctor McKay are with us,” Avan said. “I doubt they're going to try anything, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. If not, then no.”

Josephine hesitated briefly before nodding her assent. “Sure. I don't see any problem with that, so long as they're alright with it.”

“It's fine,” John assured her. “Where did they want to meet?”

“I was thinking we could have it in one of the meeting rooms or offices,” Josephine said. “Or in one of the larger common lounge rooms.”

“One of the larger common rooms, I think,” Din said thoughtfully. It wouldn't be as defensible as the smaller rooms, but the meeting rooms had some unfortunate memories connected with them that neither phoenix wanted to deal with for the time being.

“Alright. I'll get that set up and call you when they're ready for you,” Josephine said. She checked her watch. “It shouldn't take more than twenty minutes or so. Will that be alright?”

“More than fine,” Avan confirmed. “We'll see you then.”

Josephine nodded and then headed off to get the room set up and then the visitors collected and corralled in a timely manner. The call came over the radio about fifteen minutes later, with Josephine directing them to the appropriate location. The four men headed to the lounge room, John and Rodney taking up posts against a wall to keep an eye on things. Mr. Waters stepped forward, giving Avan and Din a rather bland smile in greeting.

“Hello,” he said. “You're Din and Avan?”

“Yes,” Avan replied shortly. “We were told you wanted to meet us?”

“Yes,” Waters said. He held out his hand for either one of them to shake. Avan eyed it warily before taking it. Waters moved quickly, his free hand striking out as fast as a snake and snapping a silver wristband etched with runes around Avan's wrist. He seemed to be expecting something to happen after that. Avan looked down at the band around his wrist, back up at Waters, and then punched him with his free fist, causing him to stumble sharply back before collapsing to the floor in a dazed heap.

“You have ten seconds to explain what the hell this wristband is and what the fuck you were trying to do with it,” Avan snarled as John stepped forward, his hand on his gun. Rodney hurried over to Avan and took his wrist in hand, examining the band. He snorted softly.

“It's meant to bind your powers and promote obedience to him or whomever he specifies,” Rodney informed him after probing it a little with his magic. “Not that it was actually going to work. I think they were expecting you to still be at lower power levels. You can burn out those runes easily with an overload of magic.”

Avan nodded and let his magic surface, focusing it on the wristband. The band heated up, the metal turning red before the runes failed and the band fell off, hitting the floor with a dull thunk. Avan strode forward and hauled Waters up to his feet by the front of his shirt.

“Congratulations,” he said, baring his teeth in a decidedly unfriendly smile. “You've managed to piss me off. As much as I would love to kill you outright, I'll leave you to Colonel Sheppard's tender mercies. You're extra lucky that my mate and I are feeling somewhat lenient. Atlantis herself has marked and bonded us as to her as her Flame Guardians. Did you never wonder why the Wraith kept calling our kind that? We are bound to the city and she in turn protects us.” He looked at the others. “I strongly suggest that you let those above you know that trying to do something like this again will result in more than just a bruised jaw and wrinkled clothing.”

He let John take Waters from him before focusing on Din, who was glaring at the others.

“Is anyone else going to try something stupid?” Din asked, eyes narrowed in anger. “If something idiotic does happen, you will pay for it. Our grace extends only so far, particularly after what the Wraith did to us. Explanations within the next two minutes would be a very, _very_ good idea for your continued non-residence in a cell.”

There was a long stretch of silence before someone spoke up from near the back of the group. “We were under orders to neutralize and then remove you two from the city for further examination and future binding to the United States government.”

“Woolsey! What are you doing?” one of the others hissed.

“Making sure they know that not everyone is untrustworthy,” Woolsey replied stiffly, stepping forward. “I never agreed with this whole plan. It hinged on too many things that we had no control over. Besides, the whole thing never sat well with me.”

“Thank you, Mr. Woolsey,” Din said, giving him a terse nod. “As for the rest of you...” He looked around the room. “Atlantis? Would you please transport everyone save for Mr. Woolsey and Mr. Waters to the shore-side dock with all their belongings?”

There was a shimmer of white light and Atlantis had moved all of the visitors to the dock on the far shore. They would be a little chilly but the docks had their own weather wards, which meant that the visitors wouldn't suffer overly much from the late autumnal nip in the air before they were picked up by the cars that were acting as their transports. Atlantis would be keeping an eye on them until they were all gone, and would inform John when that happened.

Waters would be put into a holding cell until General O'Neill could send some people to fetch him. There would definitely be an investigation into who Waters was working for and what the plans for Avan and Din had been in their totality; they'd be talking to Woolsey as well to get his side of things so they had a clearer picture. The wrist band was taken into evidence, stored under lock and key under John's personal authorization code so only he could access it if necessary.

O'Neill came to the city within hours of the incident, collecting both Waters and Woolsey and taking them back to Washington DC with him for questioning, as well as bringing the wristband to get it analyzed by some non-biased mages, assuming they could get anything off of it after it had been burned out by Avan. Things calmed down a little after that, with the plans for the celebration party going full speed ahead.

Josephine was more than happy to have an excuse for a morale-boosting event, especially after all the stress the Wraith had brought with them. She gave the go-ahead for the party, letting Rodney plan it all. She did insist that he give her a plan for a budget outline, however, before she would give the final say so. John helped Rodney write it out before he submitted it to her, making sure everything looked alright and reasonable.

The party came together without a hitch, with the news being spread via the city-wide internal email network as well as via word of mouth. The party melded with the usual city-wide holiday party after a time, becoming a lot larger than what Rodney had intended. Josephine simply used the budget that was normally set aside for the annual holiday party in place of the one she'd approved for the smaller one, ensuring that there would be enough supplies for those who gave her their RSVP.

As most of the city's population was interested in attending, they had to spread the party out across several different large rooms, with various food and drinks stations to be set up in each one. The atrium was the main room that the party would be in, with the other rooms within easy walking distance so people could drift between them as they liked. Supplies were brought in the more the date of the party drew near, being stored under preservation charms in the case of the more perishable items.

It was the work of a few hours to get everything set up the day of the party, with the last few things being set into place barely minutes before it was due to start. Rodney was quite pleased with how smoothly everything had gone, if he was honest with himself. Atlantis herself seemed excited about the celebration, they were having some outside guests-- including General O'Neill and his two spouses – and no one had complained about anything so far. So far, so good.

It wasn't, sadly, to last for very long.

Halfway through the party, Rodney found himself, John, Avan, and Din in the atrium. Avan and Din were talking with Daniel, Jack's husband, while John was speaking with Jack, and Rodney himself was talking with Sam, Jack's wife. The various conversations were going well, with Avan and Din sharing what bits of history they'd seen with the archaeologist, who was soaking it up like a sponge. Daniel was just about to ask about the truth behind the rumors of a species of magical beings that had supposedly posed as several gods during the last few years of the Ptolemaic Dynasty when several cries of surprise rang out around the atrium.

The reason behind the startled calls made itself apparent when a score of heavily armed soldiers approached Avan and Din, their faces obscured by black face shields on their helmets. They were led by an equally heavily-armed and masked commander, though there were no obvious rank or identifying markings on any of the soldiers. They had teleported in, called there by one of the guests who had gotten themselves invited just for this purpose.

“Phoenixes, step forward,” the commander ordered as the other soldiers firmly but carefully guided the guests away from the immediate area and then made a circle around the small group. The commander's voice was magically modulated to be as flat and accent free as possible, though it didn't hide his physical gender entirely, given his general large and bulky build. “We will not hesitate to harm those here if you do not come with us without struggle. No one is exempt from this.”

Avan and Din exchanged meaning-laden glances before stepping forward together. Avan gently shrugged off Rodney's hand when his friend tried to hold him back, shaking his head subtly before focusing on the commander once more. He took hold of Din's hand, squeezing it as they came to a halt in front of the commander. The soldiers closed ranks around them, John and the others being blocked from sight.

“Did it really not sink into your thick skulls that trying to remove us from the city is a bad idea?” Din asked sharply, his head held high as he spoke. “Seriously? We helped to take the Wraith out, not to mention we're bound to the city herself. She won't let you take us out of here. You've signed your own fates by trying to work against her. We were lenient when your politicians tried it, but you've come into our home and territory with the intent to harm the people we watch over. That's not going to be overlooked. We will not be giving you a second chance: leave now or face our wrath.”

“We will not be leaving without you,” the commander replied. He gestured for his underlings to take hold of them with a sharp wave of his hand. When the two soldiers put their hands on Avan and Din, the two phoenixes reacted accordingly. A pulse of magic swept through the circle of soldiers, bringing them and the commander to their knees. Seconds later, a fiery web of magic surrounded them, keeping anyone from approaching to either help or hinder.

_Ready to deal with this once and for all?_ Avan asked, glancing at Din, who nodded.

_Ready, though I doubt this will be the last time this happens,_ Din mused, looking at the down soldiers with a thoughtful expression. 

_If nothing else, this will send a strong message,_ Avan said, his eyes starting to glow brightly with his magic.  _I doubt killing them will truly solve anything, unfortunately, but that doesn't mean we can't teach them a lesson._

Din absently tapped his fingers against his chin as he thought before a truly mischievous smirk curved his lips. _A lesson, hmm? If they're so insistent on bringing home birds, then by all means, we'll give them birds._

It was the work of a moment to slip past the commander's mental shields to pluck the location of the base they'd come from out of his mind, as well as who those above him were. Din shared the information with Avan over their mate bond before focusing on the intruders once more.

“We've decided what to do with you,” he announced. “Since you follow orders in a flock and are as noisy and disruptive as geese, then that's what you shall be. You'll regain your proper forms in a year and a day. Until then, you won't be able to cause anyone harm, but you will be able to talk. We'll send you back to your masters. Tell them this from us: the Flame Guardians of Atlantis are here to stay. Any further attempts to remove us will be met with lethal force. This is the last time any sort of leniency will be shown to those who move against us.”

There was no time for anyone to react as, mid-sentence, Din and Avan combined their magics and turned all the intruders into Canadian geese before sending them away and back to their masters in a rush of fire and wind. Once the surprised honking faded away, the two of them turned back to the others, their eyes returning to their normal colors.

“We did warn them that we wouldn't tolerate idiots, General,” Avan said with a shrug as he caught sight of Jack's expression. The General seemed torn between laughing at the situation and reprimanding them for what they'd done. “We didn't kill them since they were just following orders, and they won't be permanently harmed by what we did. Hopefully, their higher-ups will take it to heart and stop trying to abduct us. Speaking of, we know who it was that sent them here and where from. We'll leave it to you to ensure that it can't happen again from that avenue.”

_Atlantis, my dear lady, perhaps we should tweak the wards to not allow non-phoenix teleportation in or out of the city?_ he suggested, directing his thoughts towards the warmth of his connection with Atlantis.  _That appears to be the main way those who are determined to label themselves as our enemies use to try and get to us._

_A good idea, our Guardian,_ Atlantis replied, and did as suggested, making it so that no one save for Avan and Din would be able to teleport in or out of the wards. It wouldn't keep them from being taken if they left the city, but they had ways to protect themselves if that was necessary.

“Well, now that the excitement's over, why don't we get back to the party? I think there's some punch left that's calling my name,” Jack joked, wanting to ease the leftover tension in the room. That earned a few laughs and dual eye rolls from his spouses as conversations picked back up from where they'd been interrupted. Once everyone was otherwise occupied, Jack drew Avan aside, talking in low tones in a corner.

“Everything alright?” Rodney asked once Avan rejoined him, John, and Din. Avan nodded, sliding his arm around his mate's waist.

“If everything goes alright on the General's end, it should be,” Avan replied. “He says he'll need to take care of a few rather persistent bugs before our pest problem is completely eradicated.”

“Glad to hear it,” John said, and that was the end of that topic. The rest of the party went surprisingly well, even with the unexpected interruption, and the story would go down in the history of Atlantis as just yet another weird occurrence on the Ancient city.

-/-

Obsidian settled on the ground deep in the scrub lands, his body weak and shaking. He'd managed to make it so far after the loss of the mental link he'd shared with his Queen by sheer willpower alone, but now... now that drive had faded. He doubted he'd last another week on his own without feeding, if that, but he was going too keep his word to the humans. Better he die hungry, alone, and mostly sane than insane and considered more of a monster than his kind already was. Obsidian had no illusions about what others considered his kind to be; all he wanted was to die with some dignity and on his own terms rather than being put down like a rabid dog.

He sank back against a rock facing East, wanting to see the sun rise in the sky one last time. The sky began to lighten slowly, pale golds and pinks starting to replace the darker navies and cobalts of the night sky. Obsidian smiled to himself as he took it in, a peaceful expression passing over his face. As time passed, he kept his eyes trained on the sky, though he did notice it was curiously starting to get more and more dim. He let out a final sigh as the sun fully cleared the horizon, his eyes closing for one last time in the mortal plane.

Awareness of a sort slowly returned to him, though Obsidian wasn't sure how long that took. Time was... strange and rather fluid where he was, so he couldn't say for sure how long he'd been drifting around in the realm of dark warmth he was in. As he regained his awareness, Obsidian felt a draw towards a particular direction, though exactly  _where_ that direction was, he wasn't entirely sure. It felt right regardless, so he kept moving, coming to a vague halt after a while. He startled when a voice without an obvious source began talking to him, the sound resonating to his very core.

_**Obsidian, former child of Coldamber Hive. What a curious situation you have found yourself in. There has not been one of your people in my realm for a very long time. The question is, what should I do with you? Your people normally go to the Midnight Realms, only very occasionally to be reborn into another existence, but you... You are one I am not sure what to do with. You held honor in your dealings with your foes but that was only because you had no wish to follow your Queen any longer.** _

_**Hm. I think... yes. Perhaps a second chance for you would be best. I wish you the best of luck in your new existence. I hope not to see you again for quite some time.** _

Obsidian felt a great tug at his very core before he was being pulled away from the warm dark, oblivion taking him once more as he was ushered on to his next life.

-/-

About six months after they were finally reunited, Avan and Din sharing a nice picnic dinner out on one of the piers when something happened that hadn't occurred in over a thousand years. Between one heartbeat and the next, they were pulled to the elemental plane of fire, the one all phoenixes had emerged from. Their true phoenix forms were the only ones able to survive there for a long period of time, leaving them little choice but to shift shapes. The myriad hues of the flames around them were a familiar sight, even if it had been so long since either man had seen them.

_What's going on?_ Din asked, looking around them curiously.

_I don't know,_ Avan replied, glancing around as well, though he was far more wary than his mate. Not much would be able to harm them here, but still, it never hurt to be on one's guard.  _Stay close. I say we get as high as we can and take a look around._

_Good plan._

The two of them rose into the heat-hazed sky, beating their wings and using the powerful thermals that all the flames created to ascend as rapidly as was possible. They floated above the flames for a good while before Din spotted something in the distance.

_There! Look! There's something going on over near that fire lake._

Avan wheeled around and then spotted it as well. There was some sort of disturbance going on next to a lake of fire to his left. Since there was nothing else happening that seemed to be significant, they headed over, though they kept aloft just in case. They might be some of the gods' favored creations, but that didn't mean they were completely safe in this fiery domain.

Movement near the banks made Avan dip down slightly in order to see better. What he saw had him making a rather inelegant squawking noise in his shock before he quickly landed.

_Din! Get down here! It's a phoenix coming out of the flames!_

Din landed next to Avan, the two of them watching as the fully-grown phoenix emerged from the fire lake, its mate coming out soon after. Two more broke free of the flaming liquid barely a minute later, with more and more following over the span of the next ten minutes or so. Avan and Din watched all of this with wide eyes, the nearly-forgotten fluting cries of their brethren filling the formerly quiet air. If either of them could cry in phoenix form, they would have; instead, they joined the grand chorus, adding their voices to the soaring song as they took to the sky.

It looked like the gods had seen fit to grant those who had been lost over the millennia a second lease on life now that the Wraith were gone. Neither Avan or Din were going to complain; if nothing else, they were going to be showing their newly reborn brethren as much of the world as they could and just how much everything had changed over the years. It was going to be the work of centuries, no doubt, but they would definitely relish the challenge.

They returned to Atlantis with greatly lightened hearts several hours later, their happiness resonating through the bond with the city, which then transferred to the rest of the inhabitants, making their days seem just that much brighter and better.

-/-

Xiang had lived all of his life in his tiny village deep in the mountains in the southeast provinces of China, only leaving every so often to trade for and buy things from some of the larger settlements nearby. He was twenty five and, given his status as a full blooded dragon, could live several thousand years if all went well. The oldest dragon in their village was Zhen, and according to Zhen herself, was at least fifteen hundred years old, though Xiang wasn't sure if he fully believed her.

She loved to tell the story about how a pair of phoenixes had once visited their village when she was far younger and the world far wilder, and how her father had sold them several bricks of their special dragon's pearl tea. Zhen had been fascinated by the two fire birds, and had eagerly listened to the tales of their travels all over the world. She always said that the tea harvests for several years after the phoenixes' visit had been the most spectacular the village had ever seen, and talked longingly of seeing them again before she died.

Xiang wasn't sure if any phoenixes still existed, as the world seemed far too dark and cruel at times for such pure beings of light and fire to remain, but he was always happy to pretend, if nothing more for Zhen's sake. Most, if not all, of the village called her Grandmother, though she had no direct blood descendants. Her mate had died young and Zhen had never had any children. Even so, the elder dragon seemed happy, helping to raise each generation born into the village and welcoming those who came from outside to help replenish the bloodlines every so often.

It was towards the late summer when Xiang saw the two travelers slowly but surely coming up the winding path that led up to the semi-hidden plateau that the village and tea fields were located on. He paused in his work of taking inventory of what they would need on the next trading trip, eyebrows rising. They didn't get visitors all that often, not even from the government, and especially not foreign ones. The occasional airplane would fly over, but that was about the only regular contact they got from the outside world beyond the battery-powered radios in most of the houses.

He watched the travelers walk along for a while before slipping off to go speak with his father, Daiwei, who was the current leader of their village. It wasn't long before Daiwei had gathered a few trustworthy men and women to go meet with the travelers, who by that time were less than a quarter mile away from the village. Xiang accompanied his father, curious to see what the two travelers were there for and if they presented any sort of danger to his people.

“ _Greetings,_ ” one of the travelers said when Daiwei and the others drew near. His accent was odd and intonation rather formal, but understandable nonetheless. Both wore simple but sturdy clothing that allowed for easy travel by foot without seeming to be overly expensive or fancy. “ _Is this still Three Dragons village? We visited here a long time ago and sampled a particular blend of tea from here, and were hoping to do so again if you'll allow it._ ”

“ _It is still Three Dragons village,_ ” Daiwei confirmed. “ _What blend of tea were you looking for? We produce quite a few here that you can find many other places around the country._ ”

“ _Perhaps, but we were looking for the Dragon's Pearl blend,_ ” came the reply from the taller of the two visitors, “ _and when we were here last, that was a blend that was particular only to this village and nowhere else._ ”

Daiwei considered that for a moment. If the travelers were truly there solely for tea, it wouldn't do any harm to sell some to them, and more money in the village's coffers before the harsh fall and winter would be welcome, regardless of the amount. If they were there for any other reason, particularly destructive ones, well, they would learn what it meant to face a dragon's wrath.

“ _Very well,_ ” he said finally. “ _We do still make that blend here, though it has been quite some time since anyone has ventured here to taste it from the outside. Before we enter the village, however, may we have your names? We don't like to trade with strangers._ ”

“ _Of course. My name is Din, and this is my mate Avan. And yours?_ ”

“ _Hua Daiwei, leader of this village._ ”

“ _Then it is a particular honor to meet you, sir,_ ” Din replied, giving him a short and respectful bow, Avan following his lead. Daiwei hummed thoughtfully before turning and leading the party back into the village, heading to the communal meeting hall. As they made their way through the village, they gathered more and more members to their party, particularly young children who had never seen any outsiders to the village in their short lives.

There were maybe five hundred people in the village, with a third of that being under the age of a hundred. Dragons tended to stop aging around forty or so, the process only resuming when the particular dragon decided to begin aging once more or when they reached the upper limits of their lifespans. That was why Zhen only looked like she was in her early sixties rather than excessively old and decrepit, regardless of her advanced age.

The now-large party entered the communal hall, Daiwei guiding the two travelers to a small table near the middle of the building. He sat down at the head, gesturing for Avan and Din to sit down as well. They did so, settling in with every air of nonchalance and ease. Xiang sat down next to his father, staying silent as Daiwei sent someone to fetch the makings of the Dragon's Pearl tea and some cups to serve it in before the leader began questioning the travelers more about who they were and where they were from.

The news that they were phoenixes from one of the cities of the Ancients spread quickly throughout the hall, with more than a few children running out to fetch Zhen from her house. She mainly stayed there and wove beautiful textiles most of the day, using them to trade and sell at market towns every so often. Zhen was led into the hall by two of the younger children, both of whom were chattering rapidly and happily away in their eagerness to show her their visitors. She laughed in delight at their antics, the sound carrying throughout the hall and catching the attention of the two phoenixes.

Zhen gently pulled her hands free once she and her little guides reached the central table, thanking them each before turning to Daiwei and the others. She was about to speak when she saw Avan and Din. Her eyes widened when she realized she knew who they were without needing to be introduced.

“ _You... I know you two,_ ” she breathed. “ _You visited this village when I was barely out of childhood. You bought tea from my father and blessed our crops._ ”

“ _You'll have to forgive us, but it's been quite some time since we've been here,_ ” Avan said politely. “ _Would you remind us of your name?_ ”

“ _Fa Zhen,_ ” Zhen replied. “ _My father was Fa Deshi._ ”

Recognition blossomed on Din and Avan's faces when they heard the name. “ _Ah, yes,_ ” Din said with a warm smile. “ _We recognize that name. It's wonderful to see you again. You've grown into a lovely woman._ ”

“ _Thank you,_ ” Zhen said with a faint blush as Xiang got up and offered her his chair. Zhen took it with a pleased smile, giving him a nod as she sat down. The makings for the tea arrived not long after, and soon everyone at the table was enjoying the delicate yet pleasantly fruity brew in between bits and pieces of conversations.

Avan and Din left the village with plenty of tea in their possession, promises to return as soon as they could, and one of Zhen's handmade woven blankets. They'd also worked a bit of magic on one of the main ward stones for the village, weaving in a few protective wards in return for the tea and their new friendship. They flame-flashed back to Atlantis, dropping their new belongings off in their room and changing into more comfortable clothes before heading to hunt down some of their friends and inform them of the results of their trip.

They found Rodney, John, Radek, Evan, Miko, and David in one of the lounge rooms, as well as a few other residents of the city. A movie was playing on one of the projection screens there, though it seemed like no one was really paying attention to it save for a few of the kids. A round of greetings rang out when Avan and Din approached the others and then took seats on an open couch, cuddling in close to one another as they relaxed.

“Did you two have a good trip?” David asked curiously.

“We did,” Din confirmed with a smile. “The village was still there, and we actually were able to meet the daughter of the leader we'd met when we'd first visited the village hundreds of years ago. Most of the people who live there are dragons, so the fact that she was still alive wasn't too strange, but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless.”

“That's wonderful,” David said. “I'll bet Daniel would love to hear about it when he gets here.”

“I'm sure he will,” Avan agreed. Jack had finally decided to fully retire, preferring to not have to deal with the politics that came with his job. His position had gone to General Hank Landry, who was a good man, albeit somewhat traditionalist in some of his views. Daniel and Sam were excited to be living and working on Atlantis, as both had wanted to do so for years but were unable to do so due to a conflict of interest with Jack's job.

Now that Jack was retired, however, they were free to pursue research projects on the city without worry of cries of favoritism or other complaints. Josephine had gladly approved their employment contracts, setting them up as mid-level researchers with the distinct possibility for advancement over time. Jack had opted for an on-call advisory role, not wanting to step on John or Teyla's toes. He was excited about the fishing opportunities he'd have, though he'd be keeping his cabin as a sort of vacation home.

John was more than happy to have Jack there, even if it was just as an adviser, as he truly enjoyed the former General's company. Having Daniel and Sam there would provide Rodney with even more people to bounce ideas off of, especially if Daniel was able to get the Ancient-English translation program he'd been working on with Sam off the ground and into practice. While a good amount of the Ancient database had been translated, not everything was readable, even with the help of Atlantis herself.

That had been another large boon for those working and residing in the city. Having direct access to Atlantis' consciousness via the database and her Flame Guardians had changed quite a few things around the city, not to mention having the power at full capacity. Systems that had previously only half-worked or not functioned at all were back in proper working order, and Atlantis was once again able to warn the scientists and mages away from the more dangerous areas of the city.

Lemuria was back up to full power as well, though no one had been able to tell if the other city had any sort of awareness like Atlantis did. Avan and Din had visited it, but neither had sensed anything like what they got from their own city save for the familiar hum of Ancient magic in the back of their minds. Atlantis herself had expressed some disappointment about the whole thing, but had said that it was likely that Lemuria's collective intelligence had faded over time due to the lack of constant magic flowing through its halls.

“We've got a good amount of the tea back in our quarters,” Din continued on, leaning further in against Avan as he spoke. “You're all welcome to try it if you like.”

Rodney narrowed his eyes at that. “Does it have any citrus in it?”

“No idea,” Din admitted. “We'll make sure to check before you try any, we promise.”

“Good, because me going into anaphylatic shock in the middle of your quarters would be a desired outcome,” Rodney drawled, earning a bit of a laugh from the others.

“No, definitely not, though why you insist on not getting that taken care of by a healer beats me,” Avan said, draping his arm over Din's shoulders. “It would take five minutes at the most, and Carson would be more than happy to help you get it taken care of, I'm sure.”

Rodney just hummed. “Maybe, but I'm fine for now.”

John sighed. “It might be useful to take care of it sooner than later,” he said. “Just in case.”

Rodney shrugged. “Like I said, I'm fine for now.”

As the conversation moved on, Avan and Din exchanged pleased looks. Throughout the centuries, they'd searched for a place to truly call their own. After everything they'd been through, to finally have somewhere that was truly their home was amazing. The fact that it came with friends who verged on the edge of family was a highly unexpected but greatly welcomed bonus nonetheless.

Time and Fate had not been kind to them over the past seven hundred years, but now that the Wraith were gone and Judgment had been meted out, it seemed like the tide was turning in their favor and they could breathe easily once more. The fact that their brethren in flame and wing had been returned to them was an unexpected boon as well. Perhaps the time of the phoenix had risen again, just as the city of Atlantis had been revitalized with the influx of power into her halls.

Only time would tell, of course, but Avan and Din were more than happy to spend their long lives working towards finding out just what their paths were now. For the time being, though, living on Atlantis and unfolding the mysteries of the Ancients was a more than worthwhile goal for them to pursue. No longer were they merely arbiters of justice, summoned at a whim with a few fancy words, spices, and trinkets. No longer were they mere figures of myth and legend in a world soaked in magic.

They were Din and Avan, two men who just so happened to be phoenixes, and for them, that was the best ending-- or beginning –they could ever have wished for in their long, long lives. The Law of Flame and Wing had been executed for the last time with the ending of the Wraith. Now was the time for new discoveries, new friends, and renewed loves.

Evil would always return, that much was true, but for now? For now, Avan and Din were going to _live_.

 


End file.
